


Radio Rome

by LMB



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, England - Freeform, Humor, M/M, So. Much. Tension., radio station AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:51:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7793080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMB/pseuds/LMB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Octavius Caesar is a beloved radio announcer working for the local station, known for his “Radio Rome” segments. Then, one day, he comes face to face with a rival from America – not to mention the most obnoxious man he has ever met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“...In other news, a new bus shelter has recently been built downtown. For years, residents have had to stand in all types of weather, including torrential rain showers, waiting for their bus to arrive. We interviewed the architect on her thoughts of the matter. She said, and I quote, ‘I felt bad seeing all those people standing out in the snow and wind, so I got the idea to build a shelter. I took it up with the boss and he okayed it.'

Thank you for that, Kaitlyn. Now we no longer have to worry about that recent forecast predicting cats and dogs.”

_*Canned Laughter*_

“I’m Octavius Caesar, and this is Radio Rome!”

_*Applause_

_(Fade Out)*_

Octavius took off his headphones and the “On Air” light on his mic flickered off, accompanied by a small buzzing noise. It was an old piece of technology, but it would do, nonetheless.

He took a sip of cold tea from the morning’s run and walked out of the room to greet the praise around him.

“Oct, you’ve done it again!”

“Well done, my boy!”

“Thank you, gentlemen.” He smiled. Being the youngest of his coworkers, he’d expected them to give him a hard time and was pleasantly surprised to find they saw him as an equal. He supposed he was still not quite used to it after all this time.

...Although, there was the occasional jab.

“Tavi!” Amelia cried, running into her friend’s arms. He laughed, reciprocating her hug before she pulled back, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, have you found the perfect one yet?”

“Oh, girl, you know I don’t have the time,” he scoffed with a wave of his hand. She pretended to be insulted.

“Well, just because you minored in Theater in college doesn’t mean you have to go all sassy on me.” They both cracked up.

“Like a pair of gossiping girls,” Larry chuckled, arriving on the scene.

“Could say the same thing about you and that Egyptian gentleman on your first date,” Teddy teased with a jab of his elbow. Larry’s face reddened at the howling laughter.

“Aw, shut up. Anyway, you’re the one head over heels for that Native American chick. Why don’t you just call her already?”

“I-I have my reasons, you know,” Teddy stammered, adjusting his glasses. “Just waiting for the right time, that’s all.”

" _Sure_ ,” The three of them drawled before cracking up.

“How ‘bout you, Amelia? I don’t see you talking to anyone of romantic interest,” said Larry. She giggled.

“Oh, you know me – I don’t like being tied down. Too much world travel I want to do, too many scientific breakthroughs me and Sac want to make. Now what I’m wondering is when _Tavi_ is going to – wait, where did he go?”

Octavius had already dropped out of the conversation, as, truthfully, he was not all that interested in the subject matter. Ever since he broke off his marriage with his wife of seven years - well, okay, maybe it was more like the other way around - he began to suspect he had bad luck with love. Most of the time, he hid these thoughts with excuses, such as his now-successful DJ career and frequent travels to his homeland of Rome. Besides, all of England loved him. Surely that was enough.

...Right?

He went to the break room to gather his thoughts. Luckily, he was in the presence of a quieter, more conservative crowd. As much as he loved talking to people, Octavius appreciated their respect for that which he preferred to keep private.  

“Good morning, Wea,” he greeted a small woman with black braids. She nodded at him, smiling, then went back to filing paperwork. He chuckled. She looked busy a lot of the time - it was no wonder Dr. McPhee appointed her to be his Assistant Station Manager. She was a smart young woman, and for a while, Octavius thought he should like to court her. He could introduce her to his parents and they would travel the world together, as he heard she so loved.

He got over his fantasy once he realized the new intern at the time, Teddy, had a thing for her and she did for him. Now, Teddy ran the number one political talk show at the station and they still had not acted upon their feelings for each other.

They would learn, Octavius supposed.

But mostly, though he would not admit it, Oct no longer seemed to foster an interest in women. That was not to say it died cold turkey, of course. Now that he thought about it, he could not recall being as excited as his peers whenever they talked about girls or girlfriends during his school days. He simply never felt that kind of connection. It was almost as if he would rather be with them as friends.

Perhaps he could become a celibate, he mused.

But then, who would he turn to in times of loneliness? Years of traveling might be exhilarating at the moment, but what about a later time, when he decided he was ready to settle down? Years of taking in new things, trying new foods, could not possibly fill that void in his heart. Even friends did not seem to be enough at times.

He could not help but watch couples at the local park with jealousy as they held hands, drank coffee and whispered intimate secrets to one-another. Yet he didn’t see himself with a new wife or girlfriend in the distant future.

He sighed –

Something was seriously wrong with him.

“Oh! There you are, Tavi!” Amelia rushed into the room, an excited look on her face. “Hey, Sac,” she quickly greeted the woman nearby before jumping up and down. “Guess who’s in the front hallway of the station right now?!” Octavius laughed.

“I give up, who is it?” She fake-pouted.

“ _Tavi_ , you have to _guess_ , silly!” He chuckled, going along with her little game. At least she wasn’t asking about his love life again.

“Is it the mailman?”

“Nope!”

“Is it an acrobat?”

“What? No!”

“Her Majesty the Queen?”

“It’s like you’re trying to guess horribly,” she groaned. “It’s the newcomer I’ve been talking about all week! You know, ‘the guy from America’?”  Octavius smirked. If anybody was to get an inside scoop on the newest rumors, it would definitely be Amelia.

Although, now that she mentioned it, he had heard tell of this man. He did not get the full details. Just that he was “brilliant” and “the best”, according to the old station at which he worked.

Reluctantly, though with enough curiosity to motivate him, he and Amelia left the room. Wea followed them shortly afterward, also feeling a need to see what the fuss was about. As they got closer to the front hall, Octavius could hear hushed whispers on the side about a man named Jedediah. Octavius assumed it to be the newcomer, as he knew no previous “Jedediah” around this station.

They reached the corridor, voices growing louder and closer together. Once he caught sight of the stranger, Octavius stared in wonder:

Already, he had been surrounded by a small audience.

He was certainly the strangest man he had ever seen, with his crooked nose, unruly hair, eyes the color of the sky. Octavius watched in fascination as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth. How could a man so lean have so much muscle?

The man spoke with a country twang – _as if the cowboy boots and hat weren’t obvious enough,_ he jested – but it wasn’t as slow or relaxed as Octavius thought it would be. In fact, he seemed to talk as if he were waiting for a gift to arrive at any minute.

“Hoo-wee, that was one hell of a flight,” he said, gesticulating wildly with his hands. “Ain’t never been on a plane before. I tell ya, it was like a big metal bird in the sky that never stopped t’ take a shit!” Everyone laughed – some already had tears in their eyes. It suddenly occurred to Octavius that they hadn’t laughed at his own jokes and stories like that in a while. The way they acted so carefree around the new guy was...unsettling, to say the least.

His eyes darkened.

The others might have been drawn to his charisma and the giant belt buckle wrapped around his waist, but Oct wasn’t fooled. In fact, he felt almost _insulted_ by his presence.

He hated how relaxed the man looked. It was as if he didn’t take his job seriously at all and was there to put on a show. Octavius sniffed. Well, he would certainly be put into his place once he realized who ran the show around _here_ _:_

Employee of the Month for years on end. Meticulously organized and keen on details. The most punctual. The most hygienic. Runner of the most treasured broadcast in all of the country.

...Just to name a few.

It wasn't as if luck had been handed to him. After all, he’d spent nearly a decade chasing after his dreams and recovering from rejections until he finally settled into the local station and achieved a bit of fame. He worked hard to get where he was today.

  
And there was no way he was letting this Jedediah man take it away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh – trouble in paradise!
> 
> I dunno if this has been done yet, but I was watching some Alan Partridge clips and this idea popped into my mind. X-D


	2. Chapter 2

There was no time to waste. Octavius had to get up earlier, do more jumping-jacks, cut down his caffeine intake –

Anything to keep his precious job.

As usual, he was the first to arrive, albeit with hair sticking to his forehead. Even a forty-degree morning without rain could be quite humid. He shook it out to the best of his ability and groaned, realizing he hadn’t eaten any breakfast. He walked through the halls, ignoring the gnawing feeling in his stomach. But soon, he found he was not alone –

For there, standing by the front entrance, was the man from yesterday.

He gulped and tried to walk past when the man called with a lift of his hat, “Howdy!”

Oct jumped.

“Oh! Hello,” he greeted, feigning politeness. The man walked over to him.

“Name’s Jedediah, hoss,” he drawled.

 _I know who you are, you fool,_ Octavius thought without saying it aloud.

Jedediah extended a hand and he shook it, making a mental note of it in his head. Tan, clammy, with dirt underneath the fingernails – what did this ruffian do every morning?

“I am Octavius Caesar: DJ, Talk Show Host, and Current Local Events Specialist.”

“By golly, that’s one long name,” said Jedediah with a twinkle in his eye. Oct maintained a serious expression.

“Thank you." The man burst into laughter. 

At that, he started to lose face. 

“It’s not funny. As a fellow employee, you will show me proper respect, and - and...” He trailed off as the man tilted his head, watching him intently. 

“Hey, you okay there, partner? Yer lookin’ kinda pale.”

“I’m fine,” Octavius sniffed, immediately lifting his chin. He won’t be shown up. 

He flinched at the sudden hand on his shoulder.

“You sure? There’s this real neat sandwich place near my apartment. I bet I could find ya something.” Oct sniffed again.

“No thank you, I don’t take kindly to charity.” Jedediah opened his mouth to say something when the door opened and Oct rushed off to see who it was. It didn't matter much to him, just as long as it was an excuse to stop talking to that man.

A smile appeared on his face when he saw a short man with a briefcase. “Good morning, Dr. McPhee.”

“Oh! Octavius,” the man tittered, “I was just on my way to find you! See, I’ve given you a bit of a, ehm...job promotion, if you will.” Oct tried not to appear too over-excited.

“You have?”

“Yes, but see I wouldn’t exactly call it that, heh...” he said, scratching his head. Oct raised an eyebrow.

“Why not?”

“Well,” McPhee thought a moment, “You know that new chap, Jedediah?”

“Yes.” 

“Well, I thought since you know this place third-best, next to Miss Shoshone and me, you might like to guide him around for a bit until he gets used to the place and, ehm, maybe do a few services as a temporary assistant once he starts covering some world news.”

At that, Oct froze in place. McPhee waved a hand in front of him, then shrugged and walked away when he did not move. Soon, the station flooded with other employees. Then, eyes wide and hissing through his still-smiling teeth,

“I... _what?_...”

***

During the next several weeks, Octavius watched as his popularity faded behind Jedediah’s. As if the many errands weren’t bad enough, now he found himself getting up earlier and earlier on impulse, almost like he wanted to prove himself in some way. He also held a bit of a grudge against McPhee for never telling him there was a new slot for the rising demand of world news, nor giving it to him as a  _proper_ promotion.

That Jedediah man was absolutely infuriating.

A lot of the time, he did not need half of the things he asked for. He seemed to take more joy in the fact that he was in command, even daring to smile when he was within Oct’s presence. He would try talking to him on occasion, but Octavius never said a word. He wouldn’t let this man break his spirit.

Meanwhile, Jed would scratch his head - he thought Octavius was well-known around the station for being a chatterbox. Some things weren’t always true, he supposed.

…The worst part, in Octavius’s case, was not just the fact that Jedediah was becoming a popular figure with his world news coverage. It was the fact that he was so multi-talented he became a part of  _everything_ : sports with Al Capone, fashion with Ahkmenrah and Napoleon, the history channel - why, he even had his own talk show. And it was  _hilarious_! Oct would have tears flowing down his face with laughter and then hate himself for it.

Was there nothing to stop this Renaissance monster?

One time, Jedediah asked Octavius if he would get him some coffee and deliver it to his office. Octavius wrinkled his nose.

_How crude and uncultured - !_

He sulked off towards the break room and flipped on the switch, watching as the dark drink brewed, much like his impatience. He turned his head to look at Jedediah - surrounded, as usual. That man thought himself so clever, with his sparkling eyes and animated hands.

When Jedediah’s coffee was ready, Octavius added some sugar cubes. Not that he really cared, but he thought it might be a nice finishing touch. After all, if the man was going to stay in England for a while, he ought to learn how most people here preferred their beverages. Satisfied, he put it on Jed’s desk and left the room.

He went to work in his recording studio and thought nothing of it the rest of the morning. But when Jedediah arrived during lunch break with the mug in his hand, he looked up, almost curious. Part of him hoped it would be sufficient.

He watched as Jedediah took a sip. Immediately his nose wrinkled and his lips formed a thin line. He reached into the coffee mug and began plucking out each sugar cube one by one. Once in awhile he’d take a sip and make the same nauseated expression afterward. Octavius felt his face grow hot: this man seemed to think himself an aristocrat! All week long he’d bitten his tongue. Not any longer.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Jedediah – do proceed to show me the proper way to make your precious coffee. No really, I could use a tip,” he snapped. Jedediah shrugged, almost indifferent.

“Not  _my_ fault, amigo. I had two very simple directions and you failed to follow any of ‘em!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know you don’t like sugar? I couldn’t comprehend your handwriting!”

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over your high-pitched girl voice!”

“Nor I over the gorilla hair on your face!” Although, he actually found the five o’clock shadow that hugged Jedediah’s lower jaw to be quite sexy - wait. _What?_

“Look, I get it," said Jedediah, "I know that you’re real famous around here, but I ain’t tryna steal no glory from ya. There's room for the both of us.”

“I’m not jealous! I-” Octavius narrowed his eyes. “...I’ll have you know I find your frail attempt at telecasting to be quite humorous. I don’t know what they see in you in America. You don’t threaten me in the least.”

“Works fer me, partner,” the other said, shrugging. “I’m just here to collect my paycheck anyhow.”

***

“He is absolutely frivolous!” Octavius told his friend as they were walking home. “Doesn’t take his job seriously at all and thinks so highly of himself one might think he’s self-married.”

“Looks like Tavi’s got a crush!” Amelia giggled.

“I...What the-! ” Octavius’s face flushed a deep red in protest and she laughed.

“Relax, I’m only kidding - it’s just that you haven’t been able to stop talking about him all the way home.”

“Well he’s quite ridiculous!” Octavius fumed before entering his apartment. Amelia watched after him with a smile. 

Little did he know the gears had already started spinning within her brain…

***

As usual, Jedediah ordered another coffee. He walked over to his desk and took in the strong aroma, smiling - that is, until he saw what was floating inside his mug. He didn’t even have to look up to know who was standing in the doorway.

“Still with the sugar cubes, I see.”

Octavius glowered. “Welcome to England, you _ass_.”

He left with a lift of his chin and the other had to admit, he had him stunned for a while. He also had a feeling this was going to become a common occurrence.

Well, just that guy wait. He ain’t seen the last of ol’ Jedediah. He narrowed his eyes.

“This means war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about that - I've been on a Johnny Depp craze lately. X-D
> 
> Next chapter should be interesting!


	3. Chapter 3

“...But you know, Steve, kittens are absolutely adorable this time of year. Any time of year, really. Oh, and factoid of the day: did you know the city of Rome is home to more than nine hundred churches?” He paused for dramatic effect. Then – “I’m Octavius Caesar, and this is Radio Rome!”

Once again, the sounds of generated applause filled the studio and faded away. He walked into the hallway and was once again greeted by his friends.

“Warms my heart knowing that kitten was okay, Tavi,” said Amelia.

“Why, of course it is,” he waved it off, “it had plenty of fur to keep itself warm while it was in that tree. Now it’s safe and sound in the animal shelter.”

“It sounded so adorable!” Ahk squealed. “I should like to adopt it,” he said, turning to Larry.

“Oh, no you don’t. We already have two dogs.”

“But Dexter and Rexy get so _lonely_ without their friends!” he whined, voice laced with drama.

“Ahk, we talked about this, we’re not getting you a kitten, okay?” Funny. It wasn’t like Larry to not give in to what Ahk wanted. He almost made it too, but then the other pulled out the green puppy-dog eyes that nobody could resist. “Dammit! ...Hey, do you guys mind if we make a quick trip to the pet store?”

“Not to worry, lad. I’ll fill in for your shift,” said Teddy.

“Thank you,” Ahk whispered, kissing Larry on the cheek as they grabbed hands and rushed towards the door. Oct couldn’t help but mock them as they ran past.

“*Cough* Whipped! *cough*”

“What was that, Octavius?” Larry’s blue eyes widened. “Don’t make me come over there and hurt you!” He shook his fist and Ahk laughed, leading him along. Once they were gone, Oct turned around and rolled his eyes.

“It’s true, you know. _Someone_ had to tell him there were invisible strings attached.”

Just then, Jed's voice boomed from the hallway –

“Octavius? Hey, ‘Tavius, where’s my coffee?!” 

“In a minute, _honey bunch!”_ Octavius sneered.

Teddy laughed.

“Well, well, how the tables have turned. I believe it is you, my boy, who is, if you’ll pardon my expression, ‘whipped’.” His eyes shone knowingly. 

“Do shut up,” Oct grumbled, heat crawling to his face.

***

What followed were weeks of civil unrest. If Octavius thought he had gone too far with putting the sugar cubes in Jedediah’s coffee, then he hadn’t seen _anything,_ yet. Jedediah was fast and mean - two wicked personality traits that made for genius practical joke–pulling. Not that he was calling Jedediah a genius, of course. It could actually be quite bothersome at times.

In one instance, Octavius saw Jedediah lounging in the recreation room and eating pizza after a long, difficult day of technical problems and draining phone calls from his ex-wife. Glaring, he made a snide comment that if Jedediah wanted to gorge himself on pizza while everyone else around there was productive, he might as well hit the yellow pages and call up every pizza place in town. When he came to work the next day, his suitcase dropped to the floor with a loud _clang!_ For there, blocking his entire studio doorway, was every phone book in the station, and possibly more.

“Do it yourself,” Jedediah said, walking past him with a smug grin on his face.

It took Octavius hours to remove those phone books from the doorway. Twice, he was caught in an unpleasant avalanche. By the time he got past them, however, he found an entire office covered in sticky notes, which all said “No Sugar Cubes, Please!” in perfect handwriting. It was enough to make Octavius nearly pull out his hair, including the small silver streaks above his ears.

There were times Octavius would even pull pranks on Jedediah. Once, he asked for a wiener with mustard and jalapeños and Octavius thought, _Why just one?_ So when Jedediah came to his office the next day, he found a whole pack of wiener dogs chewing out his office and shedding everywhere, with mustard and jalapeño peppers all over the floor. Then they caught sight of him and chased him down the hallway, hollering, as Octavius laughed. He really thought he had him, then.

But then he re-emerged from the other side, running behind the dachshunds, shouting, “Yeah, woo hoo! Get along, little doggies!” He had the whitest grin on his face and his eyes crinkled from the fun he was having. Octavius wasn’t sure whether or not to be pissed or wildly attracted. And on another note, where did that attraction come from? It was bad enough Jedediah was a bastard, but now he was a _handsome_ bastard and Octavius hated him for it.

It seemed no matter what he did, he could not publicly humiliate that man. He even tried hanging a bucket of water above the conference room door so that when Jedediah walked in, he got soaked to his bones. But then he laughed - _laughed_ \- and started a water balloon fight! Octavius absolutely refused to admit it was one of the most fun days he’d ever had. Especially since his failed marriage. He was most proud of the fact that Jedediah did not once see his smile throughout. He didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, after all.

One day, as Octavius was brewing tea in the rec. room, he saw a familiar face on the flat-screen TV. It was Jedediah, chatting with Don on his talk show _Bond Trader,_ James _Bond Trader_ \- or _BTJBT_ , for short.

“So Jed, tell me, how goes your new radio show?” said Don. Jed kicked his feet back on the table.

“Oh, it’s great, Don, real swell.” Octavius rolled his eyes at that. “I’m tellin’ ya, though, the ratings for ‘Radio Rome’ seem to be droppin’ faster than a sack of frozen turkeys. Personally, I blame it on the fact that he spends most of it talking about _kittens._ ”

“I - wh-! Kittens are adorable!” Octavius shouted at the screen, face growing pink.

Don laughed. “And do you have any evidence for this bold statement?”

 _Yes,_ do _you?_ Octavius thought, confidence seemingly restored. That is, until Jedediah said,

“Well, Don, here’s a graph for ya – I made it last night.”

 _Dear_ _God._

A graph popped up on the screen. “As you can see, most of our viewers here in England prefer to watch _Cowboys On Air_ while only twenty-five percent watch  _Radio Rome_.”

Octavius stilled. Was it true? Was he losing fans that quickly to Jedediah’s new show? He looked at the way Jed’s twenty-seven percent towered above his own data and increasingly began to lose all hope. His ex was right. She knew he wouldn’t amount to anything, and here he was now, still not doing it. His ratings were on the bottom of the graph, he was doing so horribly - wait a minute.

“Hey! That graph is misleading!” Octavius realized, eyes narrowing. Who did Jedediah think he was, trying to deceive him like that? Didn’t he know he took statistics all four years of college?! But there were plenty of people who didn’t, he realized, biting his nails. Who knows – Jedediah could have single-handedly ruined any of his chances of winning back the popular vote ever again in just one dumb yet brilliant move.

 ***

The graph may have told a lie, but it wasn't far from the truth, either. Octavius watched the charts in the conference room as his listenership decreased to twenty-three percent. Then twenty. Then eighteen. He was losing ground, fast. With each declining slope, he carded his fingers deeper through his hair.

“I don’t get it!” he cried.

“People probably jus’ don’t wanna hear them local stuff anymore,” said Jed, walking into the room. “It’s _boring,_ hoss. Face it.” 

“Well, certainly, with _that_ attitude,” Octavius snapped. “For your information, most people around here do not mind hearing the local news at all.”

“Sure, it was new and exciting when you first started incorporating that a couple years ago, but if ya do it every so often, it gets kinda old after a while.”

Octavius’ eyes widened. “You watch my show?”

“Have for all five years it’s been around. Even that one year of low-paid podcasts before it all began.”

“I was traveling all of Italy that year,” Octavius said, “and blogging about it.”

“Read that, too.” Jed pointed in Octavius’ direction.

Octavius tilted his head. “Are you a stalker?”

Jed averted his gaze, almost shy. “Naw - just a huge fan.” Then, his expression soured. “Well, _was,_ anyway – now I know what an asshole you are.”

“I beg your pardon?” Octavius put his hands on his hips. “Who was it that deliberately destroyed my office, again? You’re lucky I didn’t charge you for vandalism!”

“Yeah, well, you _ransacked_ mine,” said Jed.

“That was different! It’s mustard and jalapeños, you can clean that with a mop. But a stink bomb? My furniture smelled like rotten eggs for weeks!”

“I don’t understand how that means I destroyed your office. Those dachshunds you sent me chewed up half my equipment.”

Octavius folded his arms in frustration. “You know what? I don’t have to stay here and take this. I’m just going to walk away.” He was about to leave the room when Jed called out to him,

“The old Octavius would never say that.”

Octavius stopped in his tracks. Without warning, he turned around and pinned Jedediah’s wrists, pushing him against the wall.

“You piss me off so Goddamn much, you know that?” Jed’s eyes widened before an innocent look appeared on his face.

“Oh, I do?” Oct didn’t answer, continuing to breathe unevenly. Then, sporting a mischievous grin, _“Good.”_ He shook himself free from Oct’s grip and left, leaving him gaping there in that dark room.

Alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a year, lol. But I keep my promises, dammit!
> 
> Here's a link to the graph:  
> https://www.dropbox.com/s/s47ikkl7bfndhih/Screenshot%202017-09-19%2000.38.06.png?dl=0


	4. Chapter 4

“Thank you for getting me that kitten, love,” Ahkmenrah said to his fiancé. The kitten meowed and gently pawed at his nose, as if in agreement. A thoughtful look crossed his face. “You know, cats are sacred in Egypt. It was common practice in ancient times –”

“To shave off your eyebrows in grief when they died. Yeah, I know,” said Larry. Ahk’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What? I don’t remember telling you that one,”

Larry shook his head and smiled. “Ahk, I’ve lived with you for seven years. I know everything there is to know about Egyptology.”

“Oh.” Ahk hung his head. Then, hopeful, “But not everything there is to know about _me,_ right?”

“Of course not. You’re still mysterious as ever.”

The couple laughed and kissed while Amelia giggled at their exchange.

The three of them were walking home after another day at work. Ahk was just about to suggest going shopping when Octavius emerged from the back door of the station, looking hot and sweaty.

Larry tilted his head. “Hey, Oct, are you alright?”

“Tavi, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” said Amelia.

“I have,” he laughed. _A ghost of my past._

Amelia bumped shoulders with her friend. “Really, Tavi, you’re paler than a snowball. What’s wrong?”

Octavius debated whether or not he should tell her. But they were best friends, after all, and best friends didn’t keep secrets from each other. So he cleared his throat.

“I have this fan…”

“Yes?”

“And it’s, well –” He scratched his head. Then, quietly, “It’s Jedediah.”

At that, the other two joined in on the conversation, and pretty soon, everyone was demanding that he give them all the details. So he did, save for the part where he pinned Jedediah against the wall. God forbid he tell them what it was like to be that close to him, staring into his eyes. He might just die of embarrassment.

“You two would make such great friends,” Larry joked. Oct’s face burned.

“What?! Well, I never - !”

“He’s not wrong you know,” said Ahk, amusement in his own eyes. “You did mention he followed your blog. There’s got to be a certain restaurant he liked that you may have mentioned.”

“One maybe close by?” Amela added.

Oct raised an eyebrow. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” the three of them said quickly.

“Are you -” Oct ran his hands down his face. “When are you all going to get it through your heads that we are not hanging out anytime soon?”

Amelia put her hands on her hips. “And how could you possibly think that?”

“Because he hates me!” he exploded. “He called me an arsehole to my face.”

“Well, to be fair - “Larry began, but he cut him off.

“Honestly, we fight more than Capone and Bonaparte down in the sports department!”

“Woah, woah, c’mon, you know that’s not true,” said Larry, waving his hands.

“Everyone knows Al and Napoleon fight like cats and dogs on steroids, Tavi,” said Amelia.

“Agreed,” Ahk nodded.

Octavius sighed. “Well, what do you want me to do? Buy him a bottle of champagne?”

“It’s a start,” said Amelia. She closed her mouth, trying not to laugh, and Larry did the same, but Ahk betrayed them both, wheezing through his nose. Finally, all of them laughed, including Octavius.

“It really is ridiculous, isn’t it?” Octavius gasped, clutching his stomach. The others nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Totally.”

***

“That was ‘Use Me’, by Bill Withers, a soul-funk number off his album _Still Bill_ , recorded in 1972. As he explains in his recent documentary of the same name, however, he didn’t write it about anyone in particular. He just came up with it while he was a mechanic, making airplane parts. It would explain why the lyrics aren’t as spiteful as they seem.” He picked up the script and was about to flip the page when Jedediah’s voice rang through his mind.

_The old Octavius would never say that._

His grip on the paper tightened.

“Though if you ask me,” he said suddenly, dropping it in the trash, “it sounds an awful lot like what I would say whenever my ex-wife gave me a honey do list. When she made me do housework while she went out with friends, it was ‘Girl you just keep on using me’. Whenever she borrowed some cash from my bank account behind my back to gamble, it was ‘You really do abuse me’. When we went to court for our divorce, it was ‘You get me in a crowd of high-class people and then you act real rude to me’. And mind you, it did _not_ feel good getting used. ...Though, I suppose you could also look at it as a kink, if you’re into _that_ sort of thing. Personally, I do _not_ get turned on by being controlled all the time. How about you, Kah?”

“Good _God,_ no!” cried the man in the glass box across from him. “If I had someone telling me what to do at every step, I’d rebel the first chance I got!” Octavius could tell he was grateful they were having a real conversation, for once. There was something he liked about this improvisational approach.

“What do you look for in a partner, then?”

“Someone who knows how to keep up a conversation and treat me like a prince,” Kah purred. “How about you?”

Octavius’s throat constricted. He wasn’t prepared for that. “...Nothing special, really. Just, you know, someone I could let my guard down around - that I don’t have to always put on a show for.”

“That’s very nice,” Kah said, almost wistful. Octavius cleared his throat.

“Right, then. I’ll hand the show over to you. I’m Octavius Caesar, and this has been Radio Rome!”

“Thank you. Now is the part of the show where we talk about fashion, or why cashmere sweaters don’t belong in our world but on other planets…”  

Octavius left his studio, feeling light-headed. What just happened?

From the looks of it, McPhee seemed to be wondering the same thing.

“Octavius, what’s going on? You never go off script. Haven’t since the five years I’ve known you.” Octavius couldn't tell whether he was angry or not, but his arms were folded. He gulped.

“I, ehm, thought I might try something different,” he said, giving him a nervous smile. _Please don’t fire me._

McPhee studied him long and hard for a minute, then pointed at him. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but I like it. Don’t quote me on that! We don’t want just anybody thinking they can go about galavanting.” Then he walked off with a nervous jump in his step, in true McPhee fashion. He could hear him clapping his hands down the hallway, saying, "Tone down the lights and makeup, please. This isn't Hollywood."

 Oct chuckled at that. Then, a sight beheld him that he was sure he’d never seen before. For who was standing before him suddenly, but -

“...Jedediah?”

“Hm? Oh,” the other looked down. “What do you want, _kemosabe?_ ”

“I could ask you the same,” Oct said, with a lift of his chin.

“Now, lookie here, I don’t want no argument. I was just walkin’ around the corner, mindin’ my own business, when I saw you come out of yer studio. So I –” He ducked his face, which was by now very pink. “I just wanted to tell ya that I saw your show on the TV in the conference room and I thought it was really cool, that’s all.” The last part came out in a whisper. Octavius put a hand to his ear.

“What? I didn’t hear you.”

“Aw, _c’mon!”_ Jedediah stomped on the ground like a child. “Can’t a man just show some appreciation without it being labelled as some ulterior motive?”

Octavius rolled his eyes. “Calm down, you idiot! I honestly didn’t hear you!”

“Oh.” He scratched his head. “I said your show was really cool today. And you’re funnier than I thought you were," he added, as an afterthought. 

For some reason, there was a light, fluttery feeling in Octavius’s chest, as if it were suddenly hollow. He wanted to say something back, but before he could stop himself, he stuck his nose high in the air, said “Thank you,” with a wooden expression, and began walking away.

As soon as he was far enough away that he couldn’t see his face, he cursed himself. Jedediah had been complimenting him, and he blew it off, like an arsehole. He frowned. Since when did he start caring about how he acted toward that buffoon? Or care about only one person’s opinion of his show, anyhow?

He was just about to head into the break room for some much-needed coffee when he heard a commotion coming from the other side of the hallway. He looked and saw a crowd of people surrounding a figure. Octavius couldn’t quite make out who it was.

“And do you think you’ll be acting in any more shampoo commercials anytime soon?” one reporter was asking.

“Hm – I could see that in the near future, yes,” came a thoughtful reply. It was a man’s voice, for sure. He could tell by how clear and polished it was, like that of a Shakespearean actor. The reporters crowded even more around him, if that was possible, and asked him more questions. Octavius couldn’t help feeling bad for the man, whoever he was. They could get rather tedious after a while.

Finally, he emerged from the crowd, hair falling gently around his face. Octavius found himself still wondering what the appeal was until the man looked up and _dear God, were those really his eyes?_ Even when looking from far away, it was like the sky had been brought into the room. He had a commanding presence about him that drew everybody to him. Especially when his lips parted to reveal a perfect white-toothed grin. For a moment, his eyes connected with Octavius's, the intensity of which hitting him square in the chest. Then, just as quickly, they looked away, having been attracted by something else.

To say Octavius had been undone somehow by that _one look_ was an understatement. He stood there, sweating, frozen in time, until finally, he caught his breath and mumbled something along the lines of,

“Who is _that?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee, I wonder. :P
> 
> Any ideas? XD


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh, him?” Amelia said, walking up to him. “That’s the new commercial actor, Lance. Dr. McPhee hired him to tell when all the upcoming town events, such as music festivals or traveling fairs, take place.”

“Just like _me!”_ Octavius beamed. Amelia tilted her head at that outburst, and he cleared his throat. “Well, not _exactly_ like me, I mean, he must have much more exciting material to talk about.”

“What, are you kidding? Did you not hear yourself this afternoon? You were great!”

“Thank you,” he laughed. “I never imagined I would one day toss dirt on my ex on radio.”

“Yeah, what inspired you to do that?” said Amelia.

Oct scratched his head. “It was Jedediah, actually. As much as I hate to admit it, he was right.”

“Right about what?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, having forgotten he was talking to somebody. Then, “Interesting man, isn’t he, this Lancelot?”

Her face fell. “I suppose.”

“He’s certainly an exciting new addition - just what this studio needs. I think it’d be nice of me to show him around, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Amelia raised an eyebrow. “Are you alright, Tavi? You’re acting funny.”

“How so?” he protested, though he was still smiling.

“Well, for one thing, you’re sweating up a storm. For another, you haven’t stopped fidgeting since the moment I got here.”

“I swear, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, before walking off and doing a _heel-click jump_ in the middle of the hallway.

***

"Dammit! This cannot be happening!" Amelia thought out loud to herself. She shook her head, smiling. "Ah, well. I guess it's back to the drawing board."

***

For all the social work he’d done in his life, for all the theater productions he starred in during high school and college, Octavius could not seem to will himself to talk to that charming man over by the coffee machine.

What was the matter with him? He was a chatterbox, as it was, so there was no real need to be nervous. And yet, every time he thought about even going near that man, he felt his chest tighten with - well, _something!_

He had come to the break room after lunch to dispose of Jedediah’s dishes - he insisted on eating nothing but bacon and beans, it was positively disgusting; not to mention he really was a pig who had to start taking care of his own dishes - when he saw Lancelot standing there. Immediately, he began contemplating the different ways he could introduce himself:

 _‘Greetings! I’m Octavius Caesar! And you are?’_ No, too alien. ' _Lovely day, isn't it? Of course, I don't have the best judgement, since I still take my laundry home when I visit my parents.'_ Eh, probably funnier in his head. ‘ _Hello! I just happened to be passing by in the hallway three hours ago when I saw you - ’_ Dear God, he sounded like a stalker!

Octavius stood there, mumbling to himself, oblivious to the fact that Lancelot had now lifted his head and was looking at him.

“Oh, hello, there. I haven’t seen you, before. Octavius, is it?”

Octavius stopped then and smiled, probably about to say something cool, when the dishes slipped out of his hands and dropped to the floor. They broke with a loud _crash!,_ making both men jump. Oct ran his fingers through his hair.

_Sweet Jupiter –_

“Here, let me help you,” said Lance, and they both bent over to pick the pieces up. Well, that was _one_ way of starting up a conversation, Oct supposed - even if it hadn’t quite gone as planned.

“So, how long have you been here?” he found himself asking. Wow, what a boring question. Curses!

"Hm." A thoughtful look appeared on the man's face. “I arrived just last week. I still don’t quite know the place as well as I could, though.”

“I could fix that! Heh, I could show you around, I mean,” said Oct, smiling.

Lance chuckled. “Say, you have nice teeth! What kind of paste do you use?”

Oct closed his mouth and gave him a side look. “Oh, you’re a keeper.”

“No, I’m serious, really. A man can only model shampoo for so long before he starts to neglect his own teeth. Tell me, what's your secret?" 

Oct looked down at the ground. “Well, the brand I use isn’t all that special. Unless you _like_ two-pence mint found on the clearance shelf, eh heh.” Lance tilted his head, seemingly distracted.

“I’m sorry, it’s just – do you smile a lot? It looks really nice.”

“Gosh,” Octavius scratched his head, face turning red as a tomato. “I feel as though I haven’t smiled all day, and now here you are!”

Lance laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him nearly drop the dishes again. The two of them discarded the broken scraps and walked around the hallway at Oct’s suggestion, chatting about anything and everything. And the more he talked to him, the more he was starting to realize he rather _liked_ this Lancelot.

“You must come to my place, sometime. Of course, if you _like_ copies of Shakespearean play scripts lying all over the place, I feel we should get along quite well.”

Oct’s eyes glistened. “Are you kidding? I _love_ Shakespeare.” _And your eyes, too,_ he thought. Only, he’d said that last part aloud. Nuts!

“Do you really,” Lance laughed. “I get complimented on that all the time.”

“Well, I don’t see why not,” Octavius said, suddenly shy. “They’re the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.” Then, grinning, “Have you ever thought about entering the eye-modeling industry?”

“Oh, you _charmer!”_ Lance playfully punched him in the ribs. “I see you’ve got some tricks up your own sleeve.”

“Just a few,” Oct winked.

They laughed and walked, unaware they were going in circles. Oct was sure he didn’t have this much fun making a new friend in his life. He was so giddy, he didn’t even realize who he just passed in the hallway, nor the clenching fists and teeth that accompanied them.

***

A week passed by since the two of them met, and already, they were getting on well. Oct didn't even notice they'd traded numbers during the process, he was that clouded with happiness.

One morning, after a particularly delightful conversation about their favorite musicals, Octavius danced backwards into Jedediah’s office.

“I’ll bet you can’t put me in a bad mood!” he sang, spinning in circles.

Jed raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what makes you say that?”

“I met the most amazing man, whose love of theater is beyond compare. And unlike you, he actually puts effort into his hair in the morning.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with my hair!” Jedediah grumped, clutching his split ends in offense. “Anyway, just ‘cause Mr. Fancy Locks owns thousand-dollar shampoo products - ”

“It’s Lancelot,” Octavius interrupted. Jed tilted his head at him.

“‘Scuse me?”

 _“Lancelot._ You know, like the Knights of the Round Table?”

Jed’s mouth wavered before he let out a wheezy laugh.

“What?”

“Oh, you gotta be kidding.”

 _“What?”_ he repeated. Jed was starting to dampen his mood a bit.

“He’s - He’s named after a famous adulterer! What’s not to laugh at?” Jed slapped his knee, amused tears running down his face. “I mean, it’s just so corny! What is he, your Adonis? Your... _knight in shining armor?”_ He choked the last part out, face red with glee.

Octavius couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What right did Jed have to laugh at this man, who was obviously so much better and nicer than him? A low growl formed in his throat.

“Oh, go fuck yourself!” he shouted, before leaving in a huff.

“Yeah, that’s right, run away! Why don’t you two go sail off on your little dreamboat?” Jed laughed. As soon as the door closed, though, his face fell.

 ***

Ahk, Larry, and Amelia were all standing by the bus station when Octavius stormed up to them.

“Well?”

“What?”

“You still want me to get to know him?” he demanded. “Because for your information, I wouldn’t befriend that _utter cock_ if he were the last man alive!”

”Well, he wouldn’t have been brave enough to compliment you had we not made him do it,” Larry argued. Then his eyes widened in realization as the others glared at him. “...Oops.”

“So it’s all a conspiracy, then,” Octavius said, angry smile on his face.

Ahk reached out towards him. “No, Oct, you don’t understand. He was nervous -”

"To think that I actually felt flattered! If he really wanted to compliment me, he should have done it himself. Oh, and meant it - that, too!"

"He really did, though," said Ahk.

"He _is_ your biggest fan, after all," said Amelia.

At that, Octavius stopped suddenly, his shoulders deflating. "I know."

“He wouldn't have to be so afraid to talk to you if you just gave him a chance. All you need to do is open up to him," said Larry. The others nodded, smiling. 

“Yeah, well,” Oct scratched his head, images of his ex-wife coming to his mind. “Maybe I’m just not ready for that yet. Excuse me.” He averted his eyes and pushed past them, making his way to the nearest bar he could find. Had he looked back, he would have seen three faces etched with concern.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh ~
> 
> Methinks I made their chemistry a bit too good. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

Alright, so America had more of a bar scene than England, but the pub was just as good. After all, there was jazz music playing in the background, it had a fireplace, it was quiet - but there was just one problem.

It was quiet because Octavius was _alone._

While the customers at the tables around him conversed freely, talking of plans for tomorrow and after that, Octavius was left to his own devices, tracing a finger around the rim of his wine glass and scrolling through his phone. He sighed and rested his tracing hand on his face.

For some reason he was feeling rather nostalgic, tonight, considering he was reading posts from his traveling blog, which he hadn’t updated in - gosh, three years? Of course, it’s not like he could help it. He’d stopped blogging after he got a secure job at the radio station. Not to mention, he wasn’t traveling as much.

He felt a tugging in his heartstrings when he stumbled upon a familiar post. It was for a guide book he’d written in just under a year, called, _When In Rome: How To Dine As The Romans Dined._ Though the idea had occurred to him in the spur of the moment, he went on to develop a fairly well-known series based on his travels in Rome. In them, Gaius Octavius - a Roman general who acted as the author’s self-insertion - would explain the best landmarks to see, stores to shop at, and more.

He read through some of the comments before he noticed a bell icon at the bottom with an orange circle on it. He raised his eyebrows.

"What's this?" he said to himself, before clicking the icon and opening onto a chat room. A message popped up:

_Hey, there! Just wanted to say I read the first few pages of your book and was immediately sucked in. I’d read the rest, only I don’t have much money. Keep up the good work, as usual!_

He checked the date of the message and saw it wasn’t recent. A sad smile tugged at his face.

_Would you like a copy? That is, if you’re still interested._

He knew it was hardly worth the trouble since the message was from three years ago, but _oh wait, they’re typing!_

_No, that’s okay, I’ve got all five volumes now, hahaha. I got a much better job than I had before, so I can afford it._

_Are you sure? I could autograph it, if you’d like._

_That’s alright._

The response was quick, short. It made Octavius uncomfortable thinking about the disappointment behind it. Jedediah’s voice began floating around his brain again:

 _Well, I_ was _a huge fan. Now I know what an asshole you are._

He frowned and wrote,

_No, it’s really not. If you need anything else, do not hesitate to let me know. I owe a responsibility to my fans - especially since they’ve helped me get where I am today - so it’s up to me not to let them down. I sincerely apologize for my actions._

Then he sat back with a hint of a smile on his face, noting the weight lifting from his chest. He saw three ellipsis, as if the person were starting to type - this went on for about a minute before they disappeared. Octavius raised an eyebrow, wondering if, perhaps, they’d lost connection.

_Hello?_

But the user stopped responding.

***

The clock on the wall struck midnight. Most of the customers had already left, save for Octavius, who had downed two bottles of wine and was looking like a mess.

His hair had betrayed its static state, sticking out like chicken feathers. His button-down shirt was asymmetrical, collar climbing up his neck as if it were trying to swallow him whole. The temperature in the room seemed to rise, he noted, unbuttoning three buttons as sweat dripped down his chest and the backs of his hands.

He eyed the third bottle he’d ordered from where his head rested on the table and picked up the corkscrew. Were his hands supposed to be shaking like that?

“Octavius!” said Teddy, making him jump. He clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re out rather late tonight, aren’t you?”

“Heh, well, this bottle won’t drink itself,” he laughed, unscrewing the cap at last and haphazardly chugging the bottle.

“Right.” His eyes narrowed with worry. “Mind if I sit with you?”

“I couldn’t care less!” Octavius yelped, his eyes going wide before he laughed so hard he snorted. “Ah, I kid you, go ahead. I kid you,” he slurred, picking up the bottle again.

Teddy raised an eyebrow at that, but did as he was told. He rested his hands on the table, tapping his fingers together until his face brightened, seeming to have remembered something.

“I have some good news to share with you.”

 _“Good news?_ Oh, that’s great.” Octavius's eyes crinkled. He was probably speaking louder than was necessary, but what would he know at that point?

Teddy let out a joyful laugh. “I finally asked Sacagawea out on a date after all these years! Can you believe it?”

Whatever was in Octavius’s system that was making him so unconventionally cheerful seemed to come crashing down and break something inside of him all at once. His mouth wavered.

“Octavius?” said Teddy.

“Everybody has somebody to love except me!” he wailed, getting everyone’s attention. Teddy waved them off, then turned to the other.

“Well, certainly, with _that_ dreadful attitude. Cheer up, man!” He gave him a firm slap on the arm. Octavius hiccuped and winced at the pain.

“God, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he wiped his eyes. “I’m being a party-pooper. Congratulations with, you know, asking her out.” He picked up the bottle to take another swig, but Teddy grabbed his wrist, eyes looking firmly at his.

“I think it’s time you went home,” he said. Octavius hitched his breath, swallowing the unpleasant crawling in his throat and nodding vigorously. Home seemed nice right about now. “I’ll help you. C’mon,” Teddy grunted, slipping an arm around Octavius’ shoulder blades and hooking it under his arm, lifting him up. Octavius stumbled and nearly fell backwards, head rush making his vision go momentarily black. “Easy, there,” he mumbled. They slowly staggered their way out of the pub.

Octavius panted, closing his eyes in the night breeze.

“You’re a saint,” he said, awkwardly reaching across to pat Teddy on the collar bone. “A real saint, d’you know that?”

“Actually, your friends sent me to pick you up,” Teddy chuckled weakly. “Of course, if I’d have known you were going to be this plastered, I would have taken you home the moment you set foot through the door.”

“Ah, you,” Octavius waved him off, leaning his head against his broad shoulder. It could’ve been worse, really. The man smelled like coffee. And as much as he hated that caffeinated drink, the smell had rather grown on him.

Once they got to Octavius's apartment, Teddy sat him down on the bed. Octavius began to remove his socks and shoes.

“I’m so sick,” he moaned. Teddy couldn’t help but look at him with pity.

“There, now, lad. It’s alright,” he said. “The sickness should wear off by mid-morning. I promise you that.”

Octavius stopped and looked up. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus his blurry field of vision on the man who’d brought him home in one piece. Somehow, he knew he could trust his kind words, even with the hell he was going through. He took in the features of this man, this savior. He would probably be out lying in the streets right now, if it weren’t for him. He didn’t care how illogical it was. He loved Teddy. He loved him and his spectacles and well-groomed mustache, which he may or may not have wanted to touch.

Before he could stop himself, he pounced, sending them both tumbling onto the ground.

“Good gravy, man! What are you doing?” Teddy demanded.

“I just - I just wanted to thank you,” Oct slurred, sloppily kissing him on the cheek. Teddy sighed, realizing just how long a night this was going to be.

“Right - ” he adjusted his glasses. “Don’t do that again.” 

***

The next morning, Octavius was back to his old self again. Not to mention the pain was back and bigger than ever. _Shit._

“Ohh, my head,” he groaned, making his way down the staircase to his favorite chair in the living room. It was brown faux leather, which had been partially chewed on by mice that one year. This was before he got a cat, of course, he mused, as the mistress herself leapt onto his lap, purring in all its glorified orange fur.

“Good morning.” He kissed the top of her head. “Poppy loves you, Ceres. Oh, yes he does.” Ceres gently climbed up the front of his shirt until her paws hung over his shoulder, her head resting next to his. It seemed to soothe his raging headache, if only for a little while. “You don’t happen to know what happened last night, do you?” he asked. She didn’t answer, only nuzzling along his jaw.

He sighed and rubbed his temples in an attempt to focus.

He remembered stumbling through the doorway of his apartment with his arm around someone’s shoulder - who was it? - ah, yes, _Teddy._ He’d left shortly after making sure he was in bed for the night. He wasn’t too sure, but he thought he could remember seeing him surrounded by white light, too, as if he were some sort of religious icon. Of course, it could have been just his imagination. Who knew his mind was the type to play tricks on him when he was drunk? He hadn't been this hammered since the night of his divorce.

But no, the light was clearly there. It seemed to begin the moment he could smell him. He had a handsome face, he supposed, but what really got to him was his mustache. It was the same mustache his old high school English teacher wore, as in the man with the witty sense of humor that always made him laugh.

The one he would spend most of tenth grade purposefully seeking extra help after school with just so he could talk to him, the one who had a small birthmark on his forearm shaped like a giraffe.

He closed his eyes and smiled, thinking back to one May afternoon when he was studying after school:

_They’d been looking over grammar until their eyeballs nearly fell out. Octavius thought his brain couldn’t be more filled with commas and apostrophes - he’d proven himself wrong. He kept trying to read his textbook silently in English over and over again, mouthing along with the words. His teacher looked at him in thought._

_“You’re pretty shy, aren’t you, Octavius?”_

_He nodded. “It’s the damnedest thing, Mr. Hershel. I’m like a butterfly onstage, but as soon as the curtains go down, I’m a moth with holes in its wings.”_

_“You speak so wonderfully in English when the others aren’t around,” he laughed. “It’s a wonder we still have to go over grammar every time.”_

_Octavius looked down. He never wanted to disappoint this man, never.  It wasn’t as if learning the English language only a few months after moving here from Italy was an easy task, however. Making friends was even harder, what with the looks he got, the whispers he could hear floating down the hallway about the 'flamboyant Italian kid'._

_“Hey,” his teacher said, bringing him out of his thoughts. “I know now it doesn’t seem like it, but...someday, you’re going to do great things.”_

_Octavius grinned, looking up from below his messy curls. “You really think so?”_

_“I know so,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye._ _And Octavius knew that in that second, when the light caught his auburn hair and reflected off the golden frames of his glasses, the sun was put to shame._

He couldn't help but wonder how Mr. Hershel was doing today - if he knew he was right. His thoughts drifted to the couples in the park. His younger self wouldn't have envied them the way he did now. He would simply sit beside his teacher, soaking in the fall breeze, needing to be nowhere else. To be with  _no one_ else. 

His eyes opened and he sat up slowly, sending Ceres off running by mistake.

_My God. I’m gay._

It’s not as if it scared him, though. On the contrary – he _welcomed_ it. It answered so many questions he’d been having for _years._ His thoughts drifted to the two beautiful, blond-haired men at the radio station. The corners of his lips quirked up. _Gay as a daffodil, in fact._ If the studio hired one more blond-haired and blue-eyed man, it just might be the death of him.

Jedediah was handsome. Of _course_ he was handsome. _God, he was so handsome._

…It’s just that he was a jackass and Lancelot wasn’t.

Geez, what was he doing, sitting here and thinking about all this? He had to take action, _now!_ He pulled on his red coat and rushed out the door with the wildest grin on his face, for once not caring if he looked like something out of a homeless shelter.

***

He ran down the street at top speed and caught the earliest bus he could find. He was probably the only one smiling that foggy and rainy morning, but it didn’t matter. Only thing was, his heart was pounding so fast it might burst out of his chest at any second. He had to place his hand over where it was located to keep that from happening a few times.

Finally, the bus stopped just a few hundred meters from the studio, and he sprinted out toward it like a gladiator.

If only he were just as in shape.

By the time he burst through the door of the break room, his face looked a mess, his breathing heavy and sporadic. He coughed, nearly doubling over in the process, and unceremoniously hung up his coat on the hook. Lancelot’s eyes widened in surprise from where he sat at the table.

“Octavius? What are you doing here so early?”

“Will you - ” Octavius’s face went red. “Will you go out with me?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohohohoho! 
> 
> Yep, this is gonna be fun. XD


	7. Chapter 7

“Lance wants to know what you’re wearing!”

“Amelia, I’m in the shower!” Octavius echoed, rolling his eyes.

“Oooh, _scandalous._ ”

Octavius groaned. “Shut up! Just type _‘You’ll see when I get there’_ with a smiley face and a wink, okay?”

"I'm on it!"

Octavius sighed at that, though truthfully, he couldn't have been more ecstatic. Nor could he believe he was going on a date - he felt so young! Everything was finally coming together.

He smiled as he remembered the exchange from the day before:

_The words had come out and were now left hanging in the air. Lancelot continued staring at him with his head tilted, and for a while he was beginning to think this was a huge mistake. Then, all of a sudden, he broke out into laughter._

_“To think! I was going to ask you the same question!”_

_“You-you were,” Octavius breathed, heart pounding in his ears._

_“You beat me to it!” Lance’s eyes shone. “I’ve wanted to ask you since day one, actually. I don’t know, Oct. There’s something about you.”_

_The heat rose to Octavius’s face and he grinned, not quite ready to believe any of this._

_“Oh, Lance, this is great! May I give you a hug?”_

_“Not if I do it first!” Lance laughed, wrapping his arms around Octavius’s frame and clapping him on the back. Octavius laughed as well, hugging him back and burrowing his nose in his shoulder. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of the new lavender shampoo he was modelling this week._

_“This is so great, really.”_

He got out of the shower, humming to himself, and wrapped a towel around his waist before he combed his hair. Then he hit it with a hair dryer and put on his outfit. With a fitted plaid suit, Oxford shoes, and his hair slicked down, he looked nothing short of a classic English gentleman.

Once he left the bathroom, Amelia held the phone up so he could see the message:

_You’ll see :) ;)_

He looked at the two emoticons. “No, that’s not what I –” He ran a hand down his face. “Okay…”

“Hi, Octavius,” said Ahkmenrah, entering the room.

“Ahk! Hi! Thanks for coming, it means a lot,” Octavius said, giving him a quick hug 'hello'. “What do you think of my outfit?”

Ahk frowned in thought. “It’s cute, but it kinda packs on the layers.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you want to be prepared for later, when he tries to, you know, make out with you, or something?”

“Oh, goodness, I hadn’t thought of that. Um,” He looked at Amelia, who smiled and waved at him in the distance. “We’d better discuss this among ourselves.”

Ahk nodded and they both began translating in their minds. Both Ahk and Octavius had learned Mongolian from their mutual friend, Attila. The three of them often spoke to each other in the language whenever they wanted to talk about something without being heard.

_“ Би өмнө нь өөр хүнтэй огт уулздаг байсангүй. ” (I’ve never been with another man before.)_

_“ За яахав, эмэгтэй хүнтэй харьцах нь тийм ч ялгаатай биш гэж би боддог.” (Well, I imagine it’s not much different from being with a woman.)_

_“Энэ бол миний санаа зовохгүй байна.” (That's not what I'm worried about.)_

_“Тэгвэл яах вэ?” (What, then?)_

_“...Надад хамгаалалт хэрэгтэй гэж та бодож байна уу?” (...Do you think I need protection?)_

_“Үгүй, энэ нь ихэвчлэн эхний огноо биш. Гэхдээ л та түүнийг асуух хэрэгтэй.” (No, it’s usually not the first date. Just in case, though, you should ask him.)_

_“ За яахав, гэхдээ би ширээн дээр үүнийг хийж чадахгүй!” (Alright, but I’m not doing that at the table!)_

“So, what are we talking about?” said Amelia, hanging an arm around Oct’s shoulder.

Octavius cleared his throat. “Oh, em, nothing, we were just discussing how the weather is oddly warmer than usual.”

She put her hands on her hips. “I highly doubt that, but okay.”

“...I’m going to change, I’ll be right back.” Octavius giggled nervously, then left before she could suspect anything. After all - if there was anything he knew about his closest friend, it was that she had eyes in the back of her head.

*** 

Octavius emerged not even five minutes later, with a new outfit. He'd dug out a pinkish red button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and slim trousers, though he kept the shoes.

“Looking sharp, Tavi!” said Amelia

“May I suggest something for the hair, too,” Ahk said more to himself, before tussling Oct’s hair, revealing the true nature of his mussy curls. “There, now, that’s _sexy.”_ Octavius took one look in the mirror and raised an eyebrow.

“...I look like a drunk.”

"Yes, but a _gorgeous_ drunk," Ahk corrected, raising a finger. Octavius raised a finger of his own and the three of them laughed so hard they snorted.

They walked toward the restaurant where Lancelot was supposed to be taking him that evening. Oct noted with satisfaction that it was Italian. He hoped Lancelot knew a lot about Italian cuisine, because he just knew he was going to rant and rant all night.

When he arrived at the doorway, however, he found Lance was not standing there, as promised. He looked to his friends in worry.

“Do you think he knows where we are?”

“Oh, don’t worry, he just texted us that he’s on his way, and he’ll meet you at the table by the window on the second floor,” said Amelia, waving him off. She gave him a hug. “Have fun on your date, Tavi!”

“Yes, have fun!” Ahk agreed, joining in on the hug. Octavius slowly felt the air leave his lungs.

“Em...guys? Guys, you’re squishing me.”

***

Octavius sat in the waiting room, waiting for Lancelot to arrive, as promised. He looked at his watch. It had been ten minutes, already. His shoulders deflated.

He sure hoped he wasn’t lost.

He flipped through his phone again, much like that night at the pub. He couldn’t help wondering if that user had ever responded to his apology. He opened his phone, and sure enough, there was a message from just half an hour ago:

_I accept your apology from earlier. And I would actually like a signed copy of your autobiography, if you don’t mind. I haven’t read that one yet._

Octavius smiled at that.

 _Of course! I’ll send one right away to your address. In fact, I’ll do_ more _than just that. I’ll send the original manuscript, written on a parchment scroll the week Tuscany lost power._

_...You’d really do that for me?_

_Yes._

_Gosh, wow!_ Octavius laughed, hearing the wonder in their voice right now. _I mean, this is great. I never even thought I’d find a copy, since they’re all sold out online and only found in stores in England. That’s part of the reason I came here, actually._

_Aw, well I’m flattered._

“Mr. Caeser, table for two?” a waitress asked, coming up to him.

“Yes, thank you.” He nodded at her, then smiled, looking back down at his phone as he walked.

_This is so generous of you. I just can’t even believe it._

_Ha! You’d better!_ Octavius was genuinely touched by this person’s humbleness. Chuckling, he wrote,  _Oh, and you absolutely must drop by my studio, sometime - it’s always nice meeting new fans._

_Well, I wish I could, but see...it’s complicated._

Next thing he knew, he bumped head first into somebody, hearing them give a surprised yell. He would’ve apologized, had it not been a certain hateful somebody.

“Watch where you’re going, _kemosabe!”_

“I could say the same to you! You were looking down at your phone also!” he fumed. Sure enough, there he was, with the gadget in his hand.

Jed waved him off. “Ah, I don’t have time for you. I’m supposed to meet my business partner from America on the second floor at the table by the window.”

“Funny. That’s where _I’m_ supposed to be meeting my _date,”_ said Oct, hands on his hips.

“Well, guess what, _laredo?_ I was told already that it was reserved for me ahead of time, so you and yer date are just gonna hafta go somewhere else.”

“Oh? And according to whom?”

“Amelia and Ahkmenrah,” They both said at the same time.

“Ah, hell,” Jed looked away, his face turning pink. “They set us up, didn’t they?”

“Precisely what I’ve concluded,” said Octavius, his own face flushing with color. Jedediah scratched his head.

“Well, I guess we might as well make the most of this, then, heh,” he said, a hint of a smile on his face.

Octavius stared at him, dumbfounded, and the sour look appeared all over again. “What, you got someplace _else_ to be, hoss?”

“No, I - ”

“Didn’t think so. Now go park your ass in that booth over there.”

Octavius pouted at being told what to do and stormed over to the table. Fine, if this was the way it had to be. But he was absolutely determined _not_ to get to know him.

Jed sat across from him, a smug smile on his face. “I gotta say, Mr. Ego, you look really nice tonight.”

“You as well. For a dickhead, I mean.” He cleared his throat. It was true, though. He had on a light blue jumper with a white shirt underneath and a pair of khakis. His hair was not raggedy, for once, but smooth and parted down the middle. It almost made him want to touch it.

"What are you doing?" said Jed, snapping him out of his thoughts, and that's when he realized, _oh, God, I'm touching his hair!_

"Nothing." He yanked his hand away, as if it were burnt. "Just noticing how you bothered to brush your hair...for once."

"Yeah, and you forgot to brush _yours,"_ Jed laughed, though it wasn't mocking. "I like it, though. It suits you."

There it was - that fluttery feeling in his chest again. And...were his palms sweating? Who knew an Italian restaurant could suffer from a severe lack of air-conditioning?

He could barely mutter “thanks”, before looking away. He could hear Jedediah giving a long sigh, and his insides panged with guilt, knowing he’d disappointed him, but he couldn’t help it. His head was elsewhere tonight.

From across the booth, he could see a young couple ordering dinner. Both the man and woman were pointing at something on the menu. He could see the waitress trying to suggest otherwise, but they were not having it. He frowned.

“God, will you take a look at that couple?” he complained, mostly to himself. “They’re ordering the chicken breast. That’s the worst thing you can order. Trust me. The best thing to order here is the - ”

 _“Spaghetti alla carbonara,”_ they both said at the same time.

“Yeah, I know. I read your blog, remember?” Jedediah scratched his head.

A thoughtful look crossed Octavius’s face at that, and, for a split second, a smile. “Then you must know what’s for dessert.”

“Well, I certainly don’t deny the lemon-flavored gelato, as you said,  is a 'mouthful of endless flavor',” said Jed, “But personally, I like the _pastiera napoletana.”_

At that, almost immediately, Octavius could recall being in the kitchen as a young eight-year-old, watching his grandmother bake that same dessert for Easter. When she took it out of the oven, she would cut a slice for him and he would eat it, in all of its glorified powdered sugar, ricotta, cinnamon, and orange blossom water...

His eyes widened. “Now, where on Earth did you get _that_ from?”

“Well, for the longest time, I was obsessed with Italian cooking, so I took a few classes and learned up some of yer recipes, includin' a few from a book on authentic Italian desserts.” He grinned widely, revealing a crooked set of teeth. “What, you thought I ate nothing but bacon and beans?”

Octavius’s lips parted. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost say Jedediah was trying to sneak into his heart; if he didn’t know any better, he’d almost say it was _working._

“Jed,” he began, short of breath, __“That’s-”_ _

“There you are! I’ve found you at last!” Lancelot laughed, walking up to them.

“Lance!” Octavius got up and hugged him. “Thank goodness! I am so sorry about Amelia and Ahkmenrah being such a nuisance - ”

Lance laughed again. “Ah, not to worry. I’m here now, and that’s what matters.” He turned to Jedediah. “By the way, thanks for keeping my seat warm."

“Yeah, no problemo,” said Jed, matching his tone, though his eyes were narrowed.

“Would you care to stick around for a bit? Wine’s on me,” Lance flashed him a smile.

“Naw, you know what, I’ll just go. I was supposed to meet a business partner here, they didn’t come, you know how it is…” Jed trailed off, as he walked away. Oct couldn’t help but look after him in concern before turning back to Lancelot.

“You look handsome,” he giggled nervously. And indeed he did, with his blue bold-print shirt, dark trousers, and some hair pulled back in a knot on top.

Lance smiled. “You as well. Shall we sit?”

Oct nodded and they both began looking at the menu.

“What are you thinking about ordering?” he asked.

“Hmm…” Lance stroked his small beard in thought. “I was thinking about the chicken caesar salad, but the _fettuccine alfredo_ is usually my go-to.”

Octavius tried _so hard_ to restrain himself from ranting about _fettuccine alfredo_ and how terrible an option it was, due to the fact that ‘alfredo sauce’ doesn’t actually exist in Rome and how he only ate it whenever he got sick as a child because, in all essentiality, it was really just plain white pasta. Luckily he didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t help but wish for one second he was ordering the same thing as Jedediah. 

Hell, he even wondered what the person in the chat room would've ordered.

***

“Did you see the look on that waitress?” Lancelot laughed.

“Yes,” Octavius giggled, “It’s funny, because she was so convinced that Jedediah and I were dating, even though we’re totally not. Not that I’d ever even think about it, God. See, ‘cause I hate him. And _you and I_ are dating. Oh my God, we’re dating!” He wrapped an arm around Lance’s waist with a hearty laugh.

“It seems so ~ ” Lance hummed in agreement, mirroring Oct’s movement. 

Only after the laughter died down between both of them did that information really sink in. They were dating. _Boyfriends._ Which meant they were supposed to do loving things with each other, like hugging and kissing and making out and sleeping together and _woah, this is all rather fast._  Soon, Octavius’s thoughts were going a hundred miles a minute, only not in a good way.

And on another note, where were they going? Octavius thought Lancelot was taking him home, but could it be he was actually taking him to his apartment? What would they do there, if he did? Sit around and talk? Snog? _Something else?_

_Alright, that’s it. Time to put the foot down._

His face burned as he barely stammered out, “Lancelot? There’s something I have to ask you: were you or were you not planning _other things_  for tonight?”

Lance looked at him blankly for a minute before nodding in understanding. “Listen, Octy, I think you’re great, which is why I’m not exactly looking to rush things. And I certainly won’t make you do anything you don’t want to, either.”

“Oh, thank God!” Octavius cried. “Ahkmenrah had me all worried, I thought I was going to have to buy condoms.”

Lance let out a wheezy laugh. “Can you imagine what an awkward dinner conversation that would’ve been? ‘Goodness, this pasta is amazing. By the way, can we buy condoms?’.”

“‘It’ll just be a quick stop’.” Octavius said, playing along. “‘I dunno, I just have this overwhelming urge to get my groove on’.”

“‘It’s been hardly a week and I barely even know you, but yeah, it’s cool’.”

They both roared with laughter. Oct turned to him, eyes shining.

“You’re ridiculous.”

Lance grinned. “Is that a good thing?”

“Absolutely.”

Soon, there was a lull in the conversation. Perfect timing. Octavius willed himself to end the evening on a romantic note. That was one thing he remembered about dating, to leave them wanting more.

Slowly, he stood ever-so-slightly on his toes to plant a kiss on his cheek...

Then yelled, as something wet and squishy hit the back of his head.

He whipped his head around to see Amelia and Ahkmenrah laughing from behind the bushes, water balloons and slingshots in hand. Lancelot’s eyes widened with glee.

“Ah ha! A most worthy battle!” He laughed and ran off to join the fun while Octavius stood there, soaking wet and shaking his head.

_Honest to God, I am going to kill them both._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahk and Oct's conversation is roughly translated, at best. Sorry for any inaccuracies.
> 
> Happy Halloween!


	8. Chapter 8

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, it is time for our part of the show called…” Octavius pressed a button which blared in an exaggerated voice, “Things My Ex-Wife Told Me!”

_*Canned Laughter*_

“Inspired by my events last week, I came up with this small phone-in segment. Let’s get started, eh?” He gave a cheery hum and adjusted his reading glasses, squinting at the script below. “On the first week of the divorce, she made the following comment. Was it:

_A.) Your new look is really bugging me._

_B.) The bathroom is much cleaner now you’re away._

_C.) I don’t miss your mother._

Or

_D.) I hate your attorney._

The winner gets a new shirt and mug for free!”

Octavius sat back and put his arms behind his head, hoping at least one person would call. Just then, the phone rang.

“Ah, our first caller!” He picked it up. “Hello?”

“Yes, hello, ehm - based on my experience, I’m going to go with ‘A’. Is that correct?” a lady asked.

“Yea, that’s right,” said Octavius. “In fact, she went on to tell me I was trying too hard to look like Steve Coogan. Only I haven’t the faintest idea who that chap is.”

“ _My_ ex told me it looked like there was a golden poo sitting on my shoulder. It was my hair.”

“Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry to hear that. I’m sure it’s lovely-" Octavius began.

"Naw, he's probably right," said the lady, dismissive. "Anyway, joke's on 'im. He's still bagging groceries at the supermarket while I've got a new boyfriend who looks like the lead singer of the Counting Crows."

"Ah, well, I'm glad to hear it," Octavius laughed. Just then, a different phone rang. "Hang on, we've got another caller. ...Hello?"

"Octy's got a new boyfriend too~" a lispy voice sang on the other side of the line. “Octy and Lancelot, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

"Kah, please, don't embarrass me," Octavius scolded, though he was laughing. 

"Better watch out I don't steal him. He seems kind of cute."

"Oh, yes." Octavius's eyes shone. " _Very_ cute." He thought about this morning, when Lancelot caught up with him after his morning jog and they'd walked to work together, eating blueberry muffins and reciting Shakespeare. It seemed there was no better match than this.

“Anyway, I’m going back to my studio now. Let me know when I’m up!”

“Thanks, Kah, I will.”

He hung up the phone.

"Hey, so, congrats for moving on," said the lady. 

"Well, thank you!" Octavius beamed. To be quite honest, he wasn't sure how the public would receive him going out with another guy if/when that came out. Judging by this lady's reaction, however, he surmised there was nothing to be concerned about. 

"I hope he's real sweet and buys you lots of flowers. Y'know - unlike my ex."

"Oh, you bet he will, if I have anything to say about it," said Octavius, unable to resist.

The lady laughed. "I should be going, then. My bf for life's got a comb stuck in his dreads. That's the one thing we bonded over, y'know - terrible hair."

"Really, I'm sure it's quite nice -" Octavius began.

"Uh-uh. _Nooo,"_ the lady dragged out that last word. "Trust me, if anyone needs a haircut, it's us. Anyway, goodbye."

"Good - " The line went dead. Octavius laughed. "Well, that was entertaining, wasn't it? Now just before we wrap up our show, here, I'd like to ask you, the general public: what's your love story, and how's it going for you?" He paused for dramatic effect. Then - "I'm Octavius Caesar, and this has been 'Radio Rome'! Take it away, Kah!"

"Thank you, Octavius. Today's special is called 'What Is Up With Upturned Collars?'. Don't they know it's not the eighties?..."  

Octavius took off his headphones and smiled, knowing the ratings were guaranteed to climb today. He knew so long as he kept trying new things, it would be no time at all until he caught up with Jed's show,  _Cowboys on Air._

Just then, the phone rang. His eyebrows creased. _That's weird. Don't they know the show is over?_

"Hello," he said, upon picking it up. "...Hello?" No answer. "I know I can't be short of hearing, I didn't grow _that_ old overnight. Hello?" Nothing. Not even lightening it up with a bit of humor had worked. He shrugged and hung up the phone. _Ah, well._

_***_

_Dammit,_ Jedediah thought, hanging up the now-beeping phone on his desk and looking out his studio window. _Face it, Jed. He ain't never gonna care about your love story, let alone be your pardner._

_***_

The ratings climbed, as he suspected. In fact, if he kept this up for a few months, he might just break his all-time record of total viewers. He went to break the news to his dearest one, who was just rounding the corner now.

“Lance! Great news! I - ” He was stopped short by the pout on the other’s face. “What’s wrong?” 

“I...didn’t think our relationship would go on air so quickly.” He scratched his head, giving a somewhat passive-aggressive chuckle.

“Does it matter?” Octavius asked, smiling, though his brows were creased.

"Well, _no,_ but -"

“They were going to find out, anyway. Don’t tell me you’re ashamed to be with me.”

“No, no, no,” Lance waved his hands. “Not at all. You’ve got it all wrong.”

“I hope so. Because I just got out of the closet, so it would really stink if I had to put our relationship in another one.” With that, he sniffed, walking away.

He could hear him telling him to come back in the background, but instead, he found himself walking toward the break room. He knew he would probably end up apologizing later, but right now he wanted nothing to do with that.

He spotted a familiar figure over by the coffee machine and sighed. “Oh, great. What do you want this time?”

“Ain’t here to fight, _laredo,”_ said Jed, putting his hands up. “Just wanted to say you did another great job out there, and -” He scratched his head. “I had... _fun_ last night.”

Octavius looked up. “You _did?_ But we hardly even talked.”

“I know. That’s why it made it that much more meaningful when we did,” said Jed.

“Yes,” Octavius said, hand on his chest as though he’d had an epiphany of sorts. “Tell me, Jedediah, has anyone ever told you you clean up nicely, or are full of surprises?”

“No, I don’t reckon so.”

“Well, you are,” Octavius leaned forward, brushing his nose just above his ear,  _“and you do.”_ He pulled back just in time to see Jed’s face turn red and chuckled. He hated how much he enjoyed messing with the other’s head. He most especially hated how he suddenly wanted another chance to get that close.

“Hey, partner, c’mere,” said Jed. “I got a secret of my own to share with ya. Come in real close.” Octavius raised an eyebrow. Jed cupped his hands around his ear then whispered, _“You’re a jackass.”_

Octavius hated how much he laughed at that, how he secretly relished that feeling of hot breath creeping just behind his ear, the prickly stubble against his cheek, and - oh, great, now _he’s_ blushing, too.

Jed's eyes widened almost with surprise, though he was laughing as well. 

Once it died down, Octavius slowly began to realize all the things that were really on his mind. Like how he thought it was incredible Jedediah could cook, even when he’d been bringing him food all that time. And how he may have had a good time the night before too, for a little bit. And how he definitely needed to apologize for telling him to go fuck himself. He took a breath.

“Listen, Jed, I’m - ”

“Sorry, Octy,” Lance said, walking into the room. “I didn’t mean to upset you like that. You were right, I was just worried about what my producers would say about me being in a relationship even though I’m supposed to be portrayed as a single ladies’ man on commercial. It’s gotten me into trouble in the past.” He smiled, scratching his head. “Forgive me?”

“Now, just you wait a minute,” said Jed, turning to Lance. “Oct, here, was tryna tell me something, and here you come, rudely interruptin’ again!”

“Oh! Sorry,” Lance laughed. “Do pardon me, I’ll let you get on with it. Octy, what were you going to say?”

“Nothing, forget it.” Jed put his hands up. “I’m outta here.”

"Sorry!" Lance called after him, but he wouldn't hear of it. Oct couldn’t help but laugh at his all but foolish boyfriend.

“I want you to know I forgive you.”

“Good.” Lance smiled, holding his arms out. “Hug?”

Octavius nodded and walked into his embrace, wind nearly knocked out of him. Good Lord. Was love supposed to be this exhausting?

***

After a week of being with Lancelot, Octavius decided he needed a break from thinking about relationships, so he went to see a movie with his friends. Granted, he wasn’t very enthusiastic about the movie itself, but as long as he was with friends he figured it would be alright. And it was.

That is, until they started acting intimate with one-another.

“Hey, Larry, I’ve got something for you.”

“What is it, Ahk?”

Ahkmenrah kissed his fiancé on the cheek and smiled. “It was love.”

Larry grinned a big, dorky, dimpled grin.

“Well, you’ve got something right over…” He didn’t finish his sentence, instead kissing Ahk on the lips and dipping him as the two of them giggled through their noses.

Not far from where he sat, he could see a blonde woman resting her hand on the back of Don’s neck and snuggling up to him.

God, even Teddy and Wea were holding hands and kissing.

 _Something’s wrong with me,_ he sighed in his mind.

“What’s got you so down, Tavi?” said Amelia, his only friend who was single, AKA the only friend he liked right now because of that.

He sighed. “I came here to forget about love and here everyone is, all over each other.”

“Well, now, why would you not want to remember such a wonderful thing as that?” said Amelia. His eyes followed where her hand was gesturing at all the happy, relaxed faces of the couples. Once again, jealousy panged in his heart, though for reasons he could not place.

“I don’t know,” he told her. Though, truth be told, he was starting to get an idea.

They hadn’t kissed yet. Were they supposed to? He kind of wanted to, but he wasn’t sure Lance wanted to. Was that weird? The Italian in him wished to touch and caress and kiss, but he knew the ever-English Lancelot had to have his personal space.

He wrapped his arms around himself, almost as if to surround himself with the physical contact he so craved.

“Tavi?” He could hear the concern in Amelia’s voice. He was just about to answer when his phone buzzed and lit up. He slid his finger on the screen, which opened onto a sort of text message:

Guest116: _Hey, it’s me, the guy who keeps bothering you. Thought I’d try something new with the whole chat-thingy. Anyway, just wanted to thank you once again for that original scroll - I’ll keep it on my shelf forever._

Octavius beamed and came up with own username:

OctCaes: _Not at all. You are very sweet._

Guest116: _By the way, you were real funny on your show, today. I’m impressed._

Oct chuckled.

OctCaes: _It’s a break from my usual tirades about the weather, for sure._

Having a feeling this was going to turn into a long conversation, he excused himself from the theater, ignoring Amelia’s bemused eyebrow, to walk home.

***

It was a good thing he left the theater as early as he did. Otherwise, Octavius wouldn’t have spent two hours sitting in his chair in the living room texting the guy from the chatroom or, as he’d rightfully come to know him as, Guest116. They’d chatted about anything and everything, from work to cooking to travel to literature, and it didn’t look like it was slowing down anytime soon.

OctCaes: _Well, I still say Tolstoy was the most influential of all the Russian novelists._ _  
_

Guest116: _No way. Dostoyevsky was better than all of ‘em. Have you ever read ‘Crime and Punishment’? Shivers for days._

OctCaes: _Eh, he’s alright, I guess. Personally, I could do without all the long-drawn-out sentences and existentialism, myself._

Guest116: _You know, of course, this means war. :P_

OctCaes: _Yeah right. How will that be possible if we’ve never even met?_

Octodaddy: _Hello?_

Octodaddy: __Oh God,_ _what did you do?_ _

__***_ _

(Ten Seconds Later…)

Octodaddy: _You know, I really don’t appreciate this._

Guest116: _Oh, you don’t?_

Octodaddy: _No._

Guest116: _Well,_ I _sure as hell do. XD_

Octodaddy: _How did you even hack into my account?_

Guest166: _You think I’d tell you that? Next thing I know, you’d go around changing_ my _username._

Octodaddy: _Yea,_ hellooo, _that’s the point. Then you could be ‘TolstoyLover’ at_ my _very whim without being able to change it back. Seriously, do you know how awkward it would be if someone suddenly decided to use this chat for work calls?_

Guest116: _Hey, Ock, look on the bright side -_

Guest116: _At least they’d know who their daddy is. X3_

Octodaddy: _...I hate you._

Guest116: _Aw, nonsense, you love me._

Octodaddy: _Do not._

Guest116: _Would you still be talking to me if you didn’t?_

Octodaddy: _Maybe I just pity you. :P  
_

Guest116: _I pity the fool!_

Octodaddy: _What?_

Guest116: _Nothing._

Guest116: _Tell me, with all the world traveling you’ve done, have you ever actually been to America?_

Octodaddy: _Well, there was this one time when I was eleven. I went to some farm in the Midwest and milked a cow._

Guest116: _Wait...you milked a cow?! XD_

Octadaddy: _Yes. Her name was Bossy. She didn’t like me very much._

OckieFromMilwaukee _: Oh no._

OckieFromMilwaukee: _Shit._

 __OckieFromMilwaukee:__ _Please don’t change my username._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh - looks like Octy's getting relationship blues. :(
> 
> Anyone notice who the first caller was? XD


	9. Chapter 9

Octodaddy: _So, what exactly is it you do for work that pays so well?_

Guest116: _I’d tell you, but it’s more or less confidential._

Octodaddy: _Ooh, so you’re on a spy mission of some sort?_

Guest116: _I guess you could call it that, yeah._

Octavius grinned at the texts of his mysterious yet amusing online friend. They’d been chatting all week, which meant Octavius blew Lance off on occasion, but once again he couldn’t help being caught up in all the excitement of making a new friend. Anyway, it didn’t seem like Lance minded.

He looked back at the conversation and wrote back, in a more or less flirtatious manner:

Octavius: _Alright, then - if Mr. James Bond is so intent on keeping it a secret, then could he tell me, perhaps, what his former occupation was?_

Guest116: _Heehee!_

Guest116: _I actually had a job as a part-time wedding-crasher - I’d go to all these crazy parties to make sure nobody was abusing any of the animals, like the horses, and all that._

Guest116: ... _Though, of course, it was mostly to drink, sleep around, and do basically every other thrilling thing I wasn’t allowed to do. ;)_

Octavius laughed aloud at that, kicking his socked feet in the air and leaning back on his bed.

Octodaddy: _Ah, Guest116, you never fail to amuse me. Someday, I will figure out your_ real _name._

He could see the ellipsis blinking again, as his friend tried to form a response, but before he could see what it was, his phone began vibrating and playing a harpsichord ringtone, indicating a call from “SirLance”, which had a crown and heart emoji next to it. He smiled and answered:

“Hello, love!”

“Hello, fair one,” Lance greeted. “I’m just returning from a grocery trip now, but we should go out tonight.”

“Oh, splendid! Where to?”

 “I hear the Globe Theater’s got a new show playing. Bring your best outfit and meet me at the doors at exactly 7 PM, sharp. We’ll be sitting first class.”

“Gosh...so fancy,” Octavius laughed, scratching his head.

“What were you expecting, anything less?” Lancelot chuckled on the other end of the line. “Anyway - I’ll see you there.”

“Alright, then, love, I’ll be on my way. Yeah,” Octavius said, smiling, then sighing as soon as he hung up. Of course he ought to have known Lance would want to go to the theater. He just wished there had been a little more spontaneity. Octavius was a stickler for plans and routines, don’t get him wrong, but that didn’t mean he didn’t secretly want to be surprised every once in awhile. Even stopping for ice cream - or gelato - beforehand would’ve been nice. 

He looked back to see if he got a new message from Guest116, but the only recent message was the one he’d sent earlier.

Almost like he knew Lance had called.

***

Octavius arrived, just as he promised, with a sharp suit and hair slicked back. He didn’t know if it was the rough, skin-hugging material or flaky gel in his hair, but goodness, he felt itchy. If only he were wearing that outfit from their first date, instead…

“Ah, good, just in time!” said Lancelot. “Come on, now, we’d better get to our seats.” He beckoned him along. Funny how distant Lance seemed at times. Oct wished he could link arms with him, at least - it would be much easier to follow him through the crowd of people there.

They sat in the front row seats, not far from the stage; the most optimal place for viewing. Octavius turned to the other and smiled, revealing a bouquet from behind his back.

“I brought you some flowers.”

Lance smiled. “Octy, that’s terribly sweet, but you didn’t have to do that. My agent sends me flowers every other week to keep in my office, remember?”

“Oh. Sorry,” he laughed. “I suppose I forgot.”

“Yeah,” Lance said, almost pointedly, and Octavius couldn’t help but frown a little. Well, _that’s_ not the reaction he was hoping for.

It became silent between them. And not the good kind, either, where both parties are content, oh, no – this was more of the suffering kind, that made the air difficult to breathe.

Since he figured Lance was not much in the mood for chatting anymore, Octavius began looking for other ways to lighten up the atmosphere. He cautiously reached his hand towards the back of Lance’s neck and began playing with his hair. Lance jumped.

“Woah, woah! What d’you think you’re doing?” He gave a nervous laugh. “Sorry, it’s just – you scared me.”

Octavius laughed too, though his face was pained at the rejection. In front, he could hear another commotion going on. He recognized Kahmunrah’s voice whisper-shouting:

“I am offended that you actually showed up this way. Your hair looks like a wet dog glued itself to your head. And - are you wearing a cape? This is a theater, man! We’re not going to an opera!”

Lance laughed at that. “Boy, I’d hate to be _your_ date right about now.”

“Oh, he’s not my date anymore, we’re through,” said Kah, before turning to the man next to him. “Get out of here! Shoo!” The man frowned, running his hands up and down his tie, as though it had been spat upon, and stomping off in a huff. Kah smiled. “Lucky me, at least _you two_ look dignified. It’s much nicer on the eyes.” He winked.

Lance chuckled. “Do you go here often?”

"Only when the shows are actually _good,_ darling," said Kah, twirling his hair and rolling his eyes. "God knows I've seen plenty that are, how you say, _comme ci, comme ça."_

"You speak French?" Lance's face lit up right away.

 _"Un peu,"_ Kah's eyes shone. "I learned it back in school and fell in love with it ever since. Both my brother and I were raised in Egypt, so we spoke equal parts Arabic and Coptic growing up, but I also speak English, of course." 

"My father was from Poitiers. He used to read fairy-tales to me at night in French, and I'd understand every word, even when I didn't. It's a wonder how much you can connect through speaking another language."

Kah and Lance rambled on, not even aware the curtain was beginning to rise. Octavius wondered how Lance could possibly tell who had been a total stranger to him just seconds ago more about his life than he'd ever told his own boyfriend. He looked at his phone in hope that his online friend would be a savior yet again, but he still hadn't replied to his message from earlier.

That's when he knew this was going to be a long night.

***

"And afterwards, he said, 'Did you enjoy the show?', and I was like, 'Gee, I dunno, maybe I would've had a real opinion had I been able to hear the dialogue over you and Kah's side-conversations'. Only, I said _that_ part in my head," Octavius said, rolling his eyes, as he explained the prior night's events to Amelia. 

Amelia furrowed her brows. "I thought you were bored of going to the theater."

"Well, yes, but it doesn't mean I don't want to hear what all the actors and actresses are saying. Especially if I spent two hours dolling up my hair to see it." Octavius rolled his eyes at the memory.

“And he didn't notice? Gosh, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you two aren't nearly intimate enough." Amelia paused. "Seriously, Tavi, are you okay?”

“Fine - why do you ask?”

“It’s just that you haven’t been able to keep your hands off my elbows the whole time I’ve been talking to you. Plus, I saw you repeatedly patting Larry and Wea on both the neck and shoulder and _bear-hugging Teddy.”_ she emphasized, as though he’d been drunk.

“I don’t see how that isn’t perfectly acceptable,” Oct protested, more or less switching between holding her hands and holding her elbows, “It’s just how I express affection in my culture.”

“Yes, but you’re usually mindful of personal space, as well.” Amelia put her hands on her hips. “You’d tell me if something was _wrong…”_

“Of _course_ I would,” Octavius said, indignant, though he was already sweating at the lack of physical contact. He muttered a quick “Excuse me,” under his breath and dashed to the nearest person he could find.

“Hey, what’s the big idea, ‘Tavius?!” Jed fumed. “One moment I’m just walking to my office, and the next moment, you’re brushin’ my hair, pinching my cheeks, and wrapping your big ol’ arms around me. You must be crazier than a road lizard!”

Amelia glared at that immediately, onto him. Octavius grinned back, though his eyes were narrowed with fear. He turned back to Jedediah.

“Shhh, just let it happen,” he whispered, admittedly more satisfied than he’d been all week. Jed, meanwhile, was not as certain.

“Well, laredo? Why ain’t you insulting me back? Is this a trick? You better lemme go before I have you arrested for manhandling!”

***

The radio station Octavius worked at had a kind of "spirit day" once every week. The former studio manager, Merenkahre, came up with the idea as a way of getting the workers to loosen up, so to speak. Hours could be long and stressful, even with something seemingly as fun as broadcasting. 

Today was "Bring Your Pet To Work Day", and the results were absolute chaos. 

Lancelot brought his puppy, Trixie, who seemed to be getting along well with Larry and Ahkmenrah's dog, Rexy (if by 'getting along well', they meant pouncing on each other and growling in a rough-and-tumble play fight). The little white kitten, Cleopatra, watched from Ahk's arms, hissing her disapproval. Their other dog, Dexter, was friendly enough, but he was known to nibble sometimes and pee all over the hallways, which had already happened a few times. 

Teddy brought Texas, his miniature horse, who he would lead through the hallways. The horse was known to startle easily, though. It bucked a few times whenever the janitor, Cecil, showed up, in particular. Eventually, Cecil demanded that he tie Texas outside, but Teddy protested, "What, and just leave him in the rain?", so they were already having a bit of a tiff. 

Amelia, meanwhile, was showing Attila her pet, which looked, as far as Octavius could tell, like a large black mass of unfriendliness.

"This is my dog, James Ferocious. We call him that because he's friendly enough, but around total strangers, he can be rather –" Her sentence was cut off by a biting sound. "Ferocious," she finished awkwardly. 

Attila screamed and waved his sore hand, running through the hallway. This awoke his pet snake, who hissed loudly, adding to the volume.

Octavius brought Ceres, who was chasing Sacagawea's pet gerbils, Lewis and Clark, at the moment.

"Ceres! Bad cat!" he cried, running after her. "I'm sorry, Wea, I don't know what's gotten into her. I've made it very clear before that only the rats in my apartment are for eating."

"It's okay," Wea shrugged, "they're a lazy bunch. They could really use the exercise." She giggled. Octavius smiled at that. Thank goodness for senses of humor. 

He looked at his watch, which was beeping. "Oh, shoot, it's 10:30. Jedediah will be expecting his coffee sometime soon."

"Well, you go make some coffee. I'll keep an eye on your cat."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"Positive! Go," she laughed, waving him off. Octavius smiled again.

"Alright, then."

By the time he was done making coffee, he could still see Sacagawea sprinting through the hallways to keep up with Ceres. Teddy had joined in on the fun, too, laughing, holding her hand, and seemingly forgetting about the whole Cecil-Texas-ordeal.

He grinned at the sight and opened Jedediah's door only to be immediately greeted by two barking dachshunds sniffing his pant legs and licking his shoes. "Hey," he said, a subtle hint of amusement in his voice. Jed looked up.

"Oh, you recognize them, do ya? Yeah, they're the ones who happened to be chewing on the phone wire that day you spilled mustard and relish all over my office. Potty-training was not easy, I'll tell you _that_ much. Naming them was fun, though." Then, pointing to each one, "Their names are Manifest and Destiny."

Octavius made a mental note to hit himself later for laughing at that. And for momentarily thinking the casual way with which Jed regarded them was cute.

In the distance, he could see Kah having a few pet troubles of his own.

“Horus...stay...ow! Bad parakeet, bad!” Kah cried, as the bird tugged on his earring.

"Oh, are you alright?" Lance said, turning his head. "Here, let me help you." He began rushing to his aid.

"No, Lance, wait, you'll frighten him –" Ahk began, but Lance didn't hear. 

"Fear not, fair gentleman! For I shall save thee - ow," he trailed off, finger having been bitten. Kah chuckled. Lance examined it awhile, pouting his lower lip, until he looked up with a stern face. "This isn't over. I shall have your respect yet, dastardly beast!" 

Horus tilted his head. "*Dastardly _beast! Dastardly beast!*"_

"A-ha! You're mocking me, aren't you?" he cried, pointing a dynamic finger. 

_"AWK! *You're mocking me aren't you?* EEE! EEE!"_

Teddy leaned over in the background, holding a hand near his mouth. “Not a clue.”

“None,” Ahk agreed, shaking his head.

“And that’s why we no longer have ‘Bring Your Pet To Work Day’,” McPhee said to no one in particular.

Larry laughed. “Hey, look, guys - McPhee thinks he’s David Brent from _The Office!”_

“Ha! Yeah, right,” said Ahk.

McPhee raised an eyebrow and turned to _you,_ the audience: “Also, I am one small, snarky comment away from firing that man.”

***

Octodaddy: _What a day._

Guest116: _Been through a wringer, huh?_

Octodaddy: _Something like that._

Octavius smiled, leaning back into the pillows of his bed, adjusting his reading glasses and kicking his socked feet up. Ceres had made it home well and safe and was now resting in his lap, purring. A perfect ending to a chaotic day.

Guest116: _I get that. I mean, work can be kinda crazy in general. But I'm sure you have your fun days, as well._

Octodaddy: _Oh, yes. I daresay today may have been a fine mixture of both._

Guest116: _Yeah, I had one of those today, too._

Guest116: _Your autobiography, by the way, is_ amazing. _I know you probably get this all the time, but did you know you’re a real talented writer?_

Octodaddy: _Oh, stop it._

Guest116: _No, I swear - you could write a dictionary, and I would read it word for word._

Octodaddy: _Stop, you’re making me blush. ^///^_

And it was true, he realized, as he giggled, hiding his now reddening face.

Guest116: _Anyway, I got you something as a thanks._

Octodaddy: _Oh, you didn’t have to -_

Guest116: _Nonsense, it’s on its way right now. It should be arriving in five, four, three, two..._

Just then, Octavius heard the buzzer for his apartment door go off. He clambered out of bed, accidentally scaring Ceres, who made it very clear with her grumpy hiss that she was on the edge of sleep. Then he went downstairs and opened the door, expecting to see somebody. _Could it be him?_

But instead, he looked down and saw a basket with a checkered red blanket covering it. He lifted the blanket to see a batch of Italian waffle cookies – _pizzelles_ \- and gasped. They were covered in cinnamon and powdered sugar, just as he remembered back at home. They even had the same buttery smell. Then, as if that weren't interesting enough, he saw a note folded among them. He took it out and read it:

_I admire you greatly._

_\- Guest116._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And this, my friends, is where things start to get interesting. X3


	10. Chapter 10

That night, Octavius could hardly sleep. He turned the note over and over in his hands, hardly believing it, face flushed with glee. He knew Guest116, whoever he was, was a super-dedicated fan who certainly respected him as a celebrity, but who knew he would be madly, head-over-heels in love with him? And who knew he may possibly have been feeling the same right now, judging by his rapidly beating heart and the amount of time he’s spent thinking about all their conversations from the past several weeks? That makes three people he may possibly have fallen for.

Good Lord!

His phone buzzed on the nightstand beside him. He picked it up.

Guest116: _Did you enjoy the gift I sent you?_

Octodaddy: _Oh, yes, they were delicious!_

Octodaddy: _I’ve had three already._

Guest116: _Well, don’t eat ‘em all at once! I only made a dozen._

Guest116: _Of course, I could always send more - maybe with a rose? ;)_

Octodaddy: _Oh, you utter TEASE!_

Octavius was laughing so hard by this time, his wild emotions nearly causing him to throw his phone across the room.

Octodaddy: _So...how long do you plan to remain a_ secret _admirer? ;)_

Guest116: _However long I can keep my name a secret. That’s the idea, isn’t it?_

Octavius' shoulders deflated. Now he'd never know who this guy was. Then his face lit up as he came up with an idea:

Octodaddy:  _It wouldn’t be so secret if I were to, say, ask you out for lunch ~_

Guest116: _I thought you were seeing somebody?_

Octodaddy: _Oh, that?_

Octodaddy: _No way._

Octodaddy: _We hardly even talk anymore._

Which was somewhat true, he realized, with a heavy sigh. He watched the ellipsis form on the screen with the hope that he had a chance. _Just one._

Guest116: _I’ll…_

Guest116: _Honestly think about it._

Octavius once again got that feeling where he had to stop his heart from leaving his chest, only this time it was more real, slamming against his ribcage with a feeling far more intense than it was with Lance that one time. Fingers shaking, so high on happiness he could barely speak, he wrote,

Octodaddy: _Take all the time you need._

_***_

Ah, the week before Christmas. It was a time of snow glistening on the windowpanes. It was a time of joined hands and singing. It was a time of spicy, buttery smells wafting down the streets of London. And even -

“Secret Santa!” McPhee announced during a staff meeting one day, unusually cheerful. Right away, the break room was filled with the groans and mumbled whispers of those who didn’t quite approve of the idea. McPhee clapped his hands together. “Ah-ah! Now, there will be none of that. Last thing this company needs is a bunch of grinches.”

“Look, Dr. McPhee, no offense, but we do this every year,” Larry spoke up. “And between rent and our pets and Ahk’s spa treatments, it’s quite possible we might blow our credit cards if we go through with it.”

“What? How dare you? Mud is rejuvenating for the skin!” Ahk whisper-hissed beside him.

“Honey, I know, I get that it’s important to you. That’s why I only want what’s best for _us,”_ Larry said, and the two started bickering amongst themselves.  Oct watched as they went back and forth like a married couple, silently wishing he and Lance were even _that_ comfortable with one-another.

Meanwhile, people were starting to mumble in agreement with Larry’s words.

“But not all of us _knows_ everybody,” said Amelia.

“Can’t we at least have everyone write down three things they want on a list?” said Wea.

“None of that, either!” said McPhee. “You all want different so bad? Fine - we’ll make it _anonymous.”_ That initiated even _louder_ groans, but his eyes widened as if to tell the public, ‘Oi! I mean it, now’, which shut them up. He picked up a hat and shook it. “I’ve got all your names in here on tiny pieces of paper, so start picking. Chop chop, people! I haven’t got all day, and neither have you. This isn’t the unemployment line!”

Kah reached into the hat and unfolded his paper. He seemed rather pleased, judging by his uncharacteristic silence. Next, it was Octavius’s turn to draw from the hat. He opened the paper: ‘Jedediah’.

 _Mother of Jupiter, you’ve got to be_ kidding.

Though, in hindsight, he really should have seen it coming.

Around him, he could already hear the panicked remarks of those who hadn’t gotten who they wanted, either.

“Aw, man, I hate that guy!”

“Ugh, she gives such good gifts, she’s gonna make me look bad.”

“What on Earth do you buy a weirdly-dressed, magic-loving Mongolian man?” Yes, someone actually asked that.

 _A magician’s kit, you fool!_ Octavius thought, glaring in their direction. If only he’d gotten Attila, instead - it would be a proper way to thank him for all those Mongolian language lessons. Not to mention, destiny would not have been playing as cruel a trick on him. What in blazes could he possibly buy Jedediah, besides duct tape for that mouth of his? “Not bad, actually. I ought to write that down,” he mused to himself.

Meanwhile, among all the stress, Ahk and Larry were still having their tiff.

“Next you’ll tell me we can’t afford to buy more jewelry!” Ahk wailed, running around the room. Larry followed him, rolling his eyes.

“Will you calm down? We’re getting married next fall. Knowing your parents, we’ll literally be _showered_ in gold.”

“I can’t help that I live such an extravagant lifestyle!” Ahk protested, resting the back of his hand against his head dramatically.

“So do I,” said Larry, and Oct could hear the pleading in his voice. “My life is ten times more extravagant than I ever could’ve imagined, Ahk. And it’s all because of you.” By this time, he had the attention of the whole room. “I love you, Ahk. When I proposed to you, I knew I was also proposing to your watch collection and expensive gym memberships. So please - ” ‘ _Stop going all hysterical housewife on me?’_ Oct filled in the blank for him, but to his surprise, he continued, “just come back here and let’s get through this together, like we always have.”

Ahk turned around, black mascara streaming down his face. “This, Larry Daley, is exactly why I agreed to marry you.” He wiped his eyes as weak laughter escaped his lips. “And you know what, who needs jewelry? Those two rings will be quite enough.”

"Our promise rings,” Larry agreed, and he wrapped him in a hug, ignoring the touched cheers and ‘awww’s of the other workers. There was even a small applause. It was then Octavius realized he still had so much to learn about love; that he’d just barely reached the surface. The delicacy with which Larry had responded, Ahk’s eventual willingness to compromise, was nothing like the way he and his ex had spoken at all. And it made him sad to think all those years really had been in vain. He used to write it off as a mere bad partnership, but now it was more than that - it had been an emotionless one. No wonder he’d felt so empty, so alone. Lance was a good man, no doubt about it, yet there was an emptiness happening all over again. One he was sure he might never outrun.

“Tavi, are you alright?” said Amelia.

“No. Actually,” he said, choking back - dare he say it - a sob, “I’m far from it.”

*** 

If Octavius had thought the new chatroom on the phone was advanced, this was nothing compared to the one on his computer.

Octodaddy: _It’s been a few weeks._ _Are we still on for that lunch date?_

Guest116: _Still thinking about it._

Octavius sighed.

Octodaddy: _You know, being a ‘secret’ admirer can’t be all_ that _fun._

Guest116: _What do you mean?_

Octodaddy: _If you really admired me, you would show your face at least once._

Guest116: _I tell you what - how about I show up at your window at two in the morning and play you a song on my guitar?_

Octodaddy: _Lol :) ;)_

Octodaddy: _You realize you could get some serious hell for this._

Guest116: _All right then, I’ll go to hell._

Octavius stopped, suddenly. Not only was he shocked by the sincereness with which Guest116 had spoken - he also noticed he had deviated from his usual spelling of the word ‘alright’. It can’t have been a typo - Guest116 had already told him about turning off autocorrect since it was so annoying - so he figured that sentence had to be a reference to someone or something else. He was further convinced by the fact that ‘hell’ wasn’t capitalized, thereby signifying informality. But Guest116 wasn’t that informal - or _was_ he?

He closed out of the chatroom for a second and typed that sentence as it was into the search engine. When he saw the first result that came up, he smashed his fist on the keyboard.

***

It was the day of the Secret Santa exchange, and truth be told, Octavius would rather not have been doing what he was about to do. Truth be told, bile and leftover breakfast was crawling up the throat at the thought of having possibly read the signs wrong or having to face them if they were right. 

And yet, a part of him hoped he was right. 

He set down the box with a name on it, then walked around the hallway and watched everyone else to calm his nerves. Lance smiled widely at the black feather boa he’d gotten from Kah, Wea had gotten a hand-woven basket from Amelia, and Teddy and Don both seemed impressed with their demotivational posters, given by Al and Napoleon, respectively. He smiled; it looked like they had gotten good presents. Some were not as fortunate, however. Attila was staring rather confusedly at a toothbrush, Larry’s brows furrowed at his IOU receipt, and a rather angry Kah had no idea what to make of this “cube of Rubik”, as he put it.

Not far from him, he saw Jed pick up his gift - a copy of “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn” signed by the actor Elijah Wood - look at it, and smile widely, his eyes glowing. Then his face fell when he realized, and he turned in Octavius’s direction, at which Octavius spoke without hesitation:

“It’s you. I know it’s you.”

Jed’s eyes were awestruck, dumbfounded. “What...gave me away?” he asked, finally.

“That thing you said. I remembered it from that book. That’s the one, right?”

Jed nodded. “Note to self - ‘next time you decide to quote Mark Twain, be careful who you go off quotin’ him to’.”

“Apparently,” said Octavius, laughing nervously.

Jed held the book open. “I’m assumin' this is your original autographed copy?”

“Yours, now,” Octavius corrected. “It’s nearly Christmas, after all.”

Jed nodded, tipping his head forward so his hat could hide his pink face.

“I reckon this belongs to you, then,” he said, holding out a wrapped gift box for Octavius.

Octavius’s brows furrowed. “Jedediah, the idea of Secret Santa is to - ”

“Keep it secret, yeah, I know. I’ve done that long enough, thank you very much.”

“Alright,” Octavius laughed again, his voice shaking. He still could hardly believe the man he had fallen for online was the same arsehole he couldn’t stand in real life. He opened the box and his breath hitched - a painting of a bison framed in polished wood. He couldn’t help but marvel over the detail of the fur and the soaring peaks in the background, and - were all those small dots bison as well?

“Do ya like it? I spent a day out in the field back when I lived in America just capturin’ what I saw. The buffalo, you know, they move a lot, but damn if they ain’t magnificent creatures.”

“You painted this,” Octavius said, out of breath.

“Well, yeah. Is it really that hard to believe?” said Jed, scratching his head.

“You read Russian novels,” Octavius continued, ignoring him, “you once travelled across America on horseback, you cook all these amazing meals that make me think of my homeland. You worked for an animal clinic undercover by crashing weddings! ...What are you?” He asked it as honestly as he could, lips parted in awe.

Jed sighed. “Just a fool trying to get your attention.” He raised his hands behind his head in a stretch, signifying his discomfort. Seeing them now made Octavius remember something. He reached up and grabbed Jed’s hands in his, supporting his tan, sweaty palms with his own olive-toned fingers. They used to be so much darker before he moved to England. He moved them carefully beneath Jedediah’s fingers, lifted them up, wrapping around some of them and rubbing his thumb across the cuticles of others.

“Your hands. They’re always so dirty. Why?” Jed shrugged.

“I garden a little.”

Now it was Octavius’s turn to blush. _Hell._ Nobody told him he would be dealing with a man of culture. When the both of them looked up suddenly, their faces could have rivaled the likes of a rose. “Mistletoe,” said Jed.

“In Italy, there is a legend of a Greek hero named Aeneas who picked golden mistletoe so he could see his dead father. He would later found the Roman Empire,” Octavius said, tugging at his collar.

“Is that right?” Jed leaned closer, if that were even possible. “I don’t think I ever heard that legend.”

“What, a man so well-read as yourself?” Octavius asked, mirroring his movements.

“‘Fraid not, kemosabe. I only know the _one_ legend that originated right here in little ol’ England.”

“Oh, yes, I’m familiar.” The both of them tilted their heads, as though trying to determine how they’d fit together.

Jed leaned in, brushing his lips just below Octavius’s ear. “You haven’t opened the rest of your present,” he whispered. He pulled away, smirking momentarily at Octavius’s flushed face, and reached into the box and took out a bottle of California wine. Octavius thought about it in relation to the painting and laughed. It was so satirical, so outlandish, so...Jed.

Jed popped the cork, and held it up, as in a toast, before downing some. He wiped his mouth and handed the bottle to Octavius, who took a large sip then set it down on a table. “Merry Christmas, Octy.” Jed’s eyes were wilder than ever. The alcohol in his breath was - well, it was _intoxicating._ His eyes drifted down to his lips. Was all of this against his better judgement? Probably, but he couldn’t care less.

“I…”

“Hello, there, handsome!” Lance interrupted, and the two of them pulled back. He laughed. “Ah, the ‘kiss under the mistletoe’. Classic, that.”

“Yes, well - ” Octavius started to explain, thinking he’d been caught.

“That's right. I remember quite clearly: I heard Amelia talking about it yesterday, saying it was 'about high time those two fools kissed'. Alright, then. I’ll take over from here.” He winked, pulling Octavius close to him, then placed his lips on his. Octavius closed his eyes, melting into the embrace. He relished the feeling of their lips moving together, smooth facial hair against his cheeks, mind flooding with images of golden light, and - ah, who was he kidding, he was just thinking all this because it was the first time Lance had shown any real physical affection in months. The kiss was actually quite mediocre. A little too much tongue, not nearly enough bite. And seriously, was that _drool?_ Definitely not what he was expecting from a beauty like Lance.

They pulled back and Lance was saying something about how he was a ‘good kisser’, but he tuned him out. His eyes searched for Jedediah, but he had already disappeared from sight. He couldn't help but wonder where he was.

Lance brushed a loose curl he didn’t realize was hanging down his forehead back, diverting his attention back to him. “Your breath smells like toothpaste,” he laughed. Octavius couldn’t help but feel sorry for him - this moment would have been a lot more romantic if the both of them were more experienced.

If he hadn’t already for-certain, head-over-heels fallen for someone else.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That Larry and Ahk scene was originally supposed be funny, but then I accidentally made it really emotional. Wtf, me and my angst. ;_;
> 
> And yes, that is actually Owen Wilson's favorite book - I looked it up. XD


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, since I ended that last chapter on kind of a mean note, I thought I might post a bit of an earlier chapter than usual. Enjoy! ^_^

Octodaddy: _...Guess what?_

Guest116: _What?_

Octodaddy: _I found out how to hack into your account._

Jedpapa: _Yeah, right, like I’m supposed to believe_ that -

Jedpapa: _Wait._

Jedpapa: _Aw, come on, that’s not even original!_

Octodaddy: _Well, it serves you right for toying with me all this time. Honestly, why did you do it? More importantly, why didn’t you tell me?_

Jedpapa: …

Jedpapa: _There was no other way to get through to ya. :/_

_***_

That was the last Octavius had heard from Jedediah in weeks. McPhee had even told him out of the blue one day that Jedediah no longer required his assistance, since he knew his way around the studio and had secured a spot as one of the top radio shows in England. Octavius couldn't help but feel somewhat bummed at the news. This meant no more bantering over how many sugar cubes to put in his coffee, which he had gotten quite used to over these past few months. He also couldn't help but think that Jedediah had _told_ McPhee to tell him this news. Something was definitely going on behind the scenes, here, and he was not sure he liked it. 

The only good thing about all this was that gave him more time to figure out how he was going to pass Jedediah in the popularity charts. Sure, he liked the man, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t competitive. Especially since the two of them were so close to the top of the chart it was possible one of them might break the record for the most overall listeners. _Cowboys on Air_ had earned several points over Christmas break, which made sense, as it was an excellent time for money.

Aloud, he began chanting what had become his mantra ever since Jedediah had given him that admittedly-smart piece of advice that one time: _W_ _hat would the old Octavius do?_

He thought back to when he was just getting started in his career and he gasped, because he knew.

_He knew._

_***_

“That was ‘Must Get Out’ by Maroon 5, a pop smash hit from the album _Songs About Jane,_ recorded in 2002. I think we all know who it was written for, then.”

_*Canned Laughter*_

“Don’t often hear that song on the radio, eh? Of course, I relate to it quite well.”

_*More Canned Laughter*_

“Especially the title, y’know - the funny thing about radio is that people think all we do is just sit there, cooped up in the studio all day.” He stood abruptly from his chair and attached a small microphone to the lapel of his jacket. “But if you’ve been a loyal follower since the beginning, you’ll know that’s not how Octavius Caesar rolls.” Then he walked out of his studio door, past the confused faces of some of the staff, and out of the station, into the bustling outdoors.

The air was cold, wind whipping against his cheeks and tinting them red, but still, he smiled. He talked into his microphone, breath clouding. “The public is not wrong when they say this is exactly what’s wrong with radio - we sit on our butts trying to figure out the facts, when, in fact, they are out there, _waiting for us_ to find them. Why only _talk_ about the world when there’s so much of it to explore, far away and locally? Sure, I’ve been to many countries, but have I ever stopped to see what was in my local area? No. Do I even know all of the best Italian restaurants in England? No! And so I challenge you, ladies and gentlemen, to get to know _your_ hometowns. You there,” he said, stopping a random person on the street, “have you ever been to the animal shelter just around the corner?”

“Well, it’s the darndest thing,” the man laughed, “I’ve been to almost half of Europe and just returned from a visit to the Czech Republic not too long ago, but I don’t think I’ve ever been to the animal shelter.”

“Really?” Octavius raised an eyebrow. “I was asking, because I don’t think I’ve been there, myself.”

The man laughed again. “You know, it’s amazing, I never really thought about how clueless I still am about our world, even when I’ve been to so many places.”

“Don’t know London like the back of your hand, eh?”

“Not quite.”

“Yes, I get the feeling,” Octavius grinned. “Do you know I’ve been covering the local news for years, and yet I’ve hardly ever asked about the source it came from, nor gone to see some of the sites myself?”

“What stopped you, d’you think?” the man asked, scratching his head.

“Fear,” was the first thing that came out of Octavius’s mouth. He frowned in thought. “When you get out of a bad relationship, you’re afraid to do many things. Especially when they tell you you’ll never amount to the person you want to be. Even when you’re not with them anymore, you still can’t help but listen - only because they seem so secure, so sure of what they’re talking about, while you don’t even know which apartment you’ll move into, let alone how you’ll pay for it.”

“I think it’s also time”, a woman said, walking up to them. “God knows we’re so busy going to work everyday, we hardly even notice if it’s raining or shining out. And it’s _London,_ for goodness sake, everybody should be able to tell.”

Octavius and the man nodded, smiling. “Yes, that’s certainly a factor.”

“Don’t forget confusion!” someone added.

“And not having a plan,” said someone else.

Replies kept pouring in from people all over the street, and pretty soon, Octavius had collected a small crowd, not unlike the one he’d seen around Jedediah when he first arrived at the station. Octavius laughed.

“Well, well! It seems if ever one needs restored faith in humanity, all they have to do is ask a philosophical question and expect a line longer than one for sweet shops. I wonder if this is how the Greeks and Romans’s actions became so universal.”

Then, everyone began talking about _that,_ and he laughed aloud again. “Now, now, one at a time! We can’t have your voices muddling the microphone.”

He listened to the replies of everyone, nodding and acknowledging each one, until he looked at his watch and realized he was almost out of time for his segment. Then he bade a quick goodbye to the crowd, asking that they see him again.

“And so you see, ladies and gentlemen, the difference between talking to someone on the telephone in a tiny room versus someone in an open area who is out shopping. You know, Jedediah from ‘Cowboys on Air’ was right all those months ago when he said I only ever talk about kittens - perhaps I should be _petting_ them more!”

_*Canned Laughter*_

“I’m Octavius Caesar, and this has been ‘Radio Rome’! Take it away, Kah!”

Kah seemed in shock on the other side of the line, silent for a whole three seconds before speaking.

“Th-Thank you, Octavius. And now it’s time for the part of the show where we discuss the latest fashion trends. Today’s special is called ‘It’s Not A Dress, It’s A Tunic’, where we focus on why we need to start taking man skirts seriously…”

Of course, if Octavius thought Kah was in shock, it was nothing compared to the gaping goldfish-like mouths of the staff he saw as soon as he opened the station doors. 

His friends, strangers, and enemy alike all seemed to think he had just arrived from an unidentified spacecraft, rather than a stroll around town. McPhee, the palest and most flabbergasted of them all, was the first to speak:

“Who knew you were so personable?” He raised a finger, trying to understand but not quite. Teddy was the next, albeit a bit more enthusiastic.

“Bully! Well done, lad - it’s not every day someone makes such a bold move in the radio industry!"

“And the way you talked to those people. It was like you were really listening!” Amelia agreed, starry-eyed.

“We absolutely loved the discussions, too,” said Ahk, and Larry nodded, holding his hand beside him.

Octavius’s eyes crinkled at all the warmth. “Thank you, everyone.”

“And look,” said Wea, pointing at the chart on one of the viewing monitors. “You’ve both passed Jedediah and broken the record, all at once.”

His heart caught in his throat. _Could it be?_ But he looked, and sure enough, his bar towered above Jedediah’s - for _real,_ this time. So it was official.

Octavius was the most listened-to man in all of the United Kingdom.

“This calls for a celebration!” Lance cried from the back, raising his arm in a faux-toast.

“I couldn’t agree more~!” Kah sang, running out of his studio. Everyone began cheering and talking excitedly to one-another.

“Oh boy! When’s the date?”

“Whose house shall we go to?”

“Should I bring snacks?”

“Tonight at seven at my apartment, and yes!” Lance said, before making his way over to Octavius and hugging him. “You cannot know how proud I am of you. You simply cannot.” He kissed him on the cheek, and for once, Octavius was happy to accept it, happy to be part of the moment. His moment. Not to mention, there was going to be a party.

Could things get any better?!

But when his eyes scanned the audience, his face fell momentarily - 

The one person he wanted to see, the only person whose response toward his program he ultimately cared about, was no longer in the room once again.

***

Speakers blared and glasses clinked at what Octavius considered to be the greatest party of all time. Not only was his boyfriend acting highly supportive of him, but he was also quite skilled at finding the right entertainment.

In the background, he could see the sports announcer Al Capone doing stand-up on the microphone.

“My ma says, “Alphonse, why didn’t you pick up your room?’. And I says, ‘I tried, but it was too heavy to lift!’.” The drum sounded and he awaited the roaring laughter. When he didn’t get it, he folded his arms. “Ah, c’mon, these are good jokes, here!”

“You’re terrible at zis,” said his co-worker Napoleon, rolling his eyes from across the stage.

Al grunted. “Alright, Frenchy, let’s see _yous_ give it a try.”

Napoleon walked up to the microphone and cleared his throat as it hummed.

“Did you hear about the Frenchman who jumped into the river in Paris? He was declared to be _in Seine!”_ The drum sounded and everyone in the room keeled over with laughter. He bowed, oblivious to Al’s seething anger. “Thank you, thank you!”

“You ruined my show!”

“No, I _saved_ your show! You stink worse than a slice of _camembert!”_

“Are yous asking for a camem _bert_ -hug?”

“Only if I can trap you first!”

They started a physical fight and everyone laughed, thinking it was part of the show, but knowing the both of them, it most likely wasn’t.

Octavius laughed for a while, too, even clapping his hands, but it died down when he noticed Jedediah wasn’t part of the audience. His fingers drummed on the table. _That_ was strange - Jedediah wasn’t the type not to show up at parties.

Come to think of it, he was under the impression he was ignoring him on purpose. But why? It wasn’t as if they’d had a tiff during that Christmas party - quite the opposite. He hardly even knew why he cared for that man so much, if they weren’t even friends to begin with. He didn’t know - _could_ he consider Jedediah his friend?

Then he remembered - he’d disappeared shortly after he and Lance had kissed under the mistletoe, and again when Lance kissed him this afternoon. And all those other times, when Lance had accidentally interrupted their conversations, he had seemed upset. Lance, Lance, Lance - it was always ever Lance.

Suddenly, Octavius wasn’t feeling so well-temperamented toward his boyfriend.

He could see Lance just around the corner, chatting with Kahmunrah, drink in hand. He walked up to him with a congenial smile pasted on his face and tapped on his shoulder.

“Lance, darling? Have you seen Jedediah?” Lance looked around the room before shaking his head.

“No, I’m afraid I haven’t. Why?”

“Why? _Why?_ I think we both know _why,”_ he said, voice rising without care, smile disappearing rapidly. “You know, it’s one thing to be protective, but it’s another entirely to leave somebody out on purpose!”

“Octy, I don’t know what you’re talking about - ”

“Don’t ‘Octy’ me! I don’t know what it is you said that’s making him avoid me, but I _do_ know it cannot have been good!”

Kah raised an eyebrow. “Calm down, Octavius, I’m sure there’s an explanation - ”

“You stay out of this!” he cried, making him jump. Tears had begun to form in his eyes, but he didn’t care. Turning back to Lance, “First you don’t want anyone to know about us, then you go saying things behind my back to control who I do or don’t talk to. I never asked for another loveless seven-year relationship! You’re _sick!”_ He shoved past him and, ignoring the fact his name was being called, stormed out into the cold evening.

He could hear the music still blaring inside, which was also where all the beverages lie, but to say he wasn’t in the mood for any of that now was an understatement. He couldn’t fight the growing pit in his stomach at the thought of Jedediah hiding away, scared of Lancelot - wait, who was gently kicking his shoe just now? Was that _him?_

Son of Jupiter, he’d been outside looking at the stars the whole time!

“Hey - I heard you yellin’. Is everything okay?” His eyes, startlingly blue against the black of the night, compelled him to tell the truth.

“No,” Octavius sighed. “Lancelot is a complete dick who doesn’t know what he wants.” He looked back at the window, through which he could see Lance and Kah laughing and dancing to an upbeat song. “Or maybe he does.”

Jed scratched his head. “He wasn’t trying to uninvite me on purpose, you know.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that to appease me,” Oct shot him down.

“No, really, it was actually a mistake. I was on the list. He just forgot, is all.” Alright, he’d buy that. But -

“Did he say anything to you at all? And I swear, you better not fucking lie to me,” he added, raising a finger in warning.

“No, hoss, nothing of the sort!" It seemed Jed's voice grew higher in pitch every time he was convincing him of something. "Look - what I did was on my own terms. I simply wanted to leave you two alone to whatever it was you were doing.”

Octavius’s shoulders slumped. “Great. Now I feel like an ass.” They looked at each other for a while longer, then burst into laughter, in spite of it all. Jed smiled, revealing the top set of crooked teeth that Octavius had come to adore.

“Well, thanks for standin' up for me anyway. It was mighty sweet of you.”

Then, to his very surprise, he felt Jedediah’s strong arms wrap around him, chest pressing against his. It wasn’t a half-hug half-handshake, like he’d seen him do with the other employees, oh, no - this was a full-on embrace, with hair so soft against his cheek and hot, steady breath on his neck so soothing that even Octavius, the Italian, was left feeling flustered. And as if that weren’t enough, he smelled like fresh wilderness and soap and was humming contentedly in his ear, sending electricity coursing through his veins.

Then the way Jedediah slowly pulled away, smirking, with a half-lidded gaze, sliding his hands from his shoulder blades to his waist - good gracious, he was a mess. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jed whispered, words so close to his mouth he could swallow them. Then he walked away with that same bastard grin, leaving Octavius so out of breath he could barely protest,

“I’m not your call girl!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, turns out Lance is just a forgetful moron and Jed knew and crashed the party anyway. 
> 
> Exciting things in store! :D


	12. Chapter 12

Once all the party guests had left and Octavius and Lance had cleaned up the last of the mess that had been left, Octavius decided it was time for the both of them to have a little conversation.

Only, not the cordial kind.

“You,” Octavius said, wrapping paper in his hand, “I want to talk to you.”

“Yes, truthfully, I’ve been meaning to talk to you as well,” said Lancelot, looking off to the side as he put away the duster.

The two of them took a deep breath. Then, at the same time:

“I’m afraid we don’t see eye to eye on our relationship.”

They gasped, blocking their mouths, as though they couldn’t believe what the other had said; that they had been thinking the same thing.

Oct started to speak again when he realized Lancelot had started saying something as well. He cleared his throat. “Em, you go first.”

“It has come to my attention,” Lance said, in that dramatic voice of his, “That you think I’m being manipulative.”

“Oh, really? Well, I’m sure you think I’m being paranoid, then,” Octavius huffed. He rolled his eyes, holding his hands up. “Sure, just pick on the man who was closeted up until the middle of his life and hasn’t had an experienced relationship with another man before.”

“You seem to be forgetting something,” Lance said, unable to help laughing.

Octavius pouted. “Oh, and what’s that?”

“I’m inexperienced too.”

At that, memories of their first date began flooding Octavius’s mind. He pinched the bridge of his nose. _Shit._ Alright, so they were both in the dark. But that didn’t mean certain things were still acceptable.

He frowned. “Care to explain the part that was _complete distance_ before Christmas, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know, the ‘don’t touch my hair’ gig. The ‘oh, my agent already gave me flowers.’ The ‘just don’t touch me in general’.” Octavius could feel himself shivering in memory. How cold those days had seemed.

“I didn’t know you’d take it so hard.” Lance raised an eyebrow. “I’m just confused, is all. I thought we both agreed from the first date we weren’t ready to be exclusive yet.”

“Well, sure, I was scared on the first date. That was just too early for me. But do you know what I wanted by the time we got to our second and third dates?” Octavius could feel his voice rising once again, and once again he didn’t care. “Sex, sex, sex! Hot, dirty sex all over your apartment!” He hoped Lance could see his love for him growing and dying all at once. He hoped to God he was horrified with every _s-word_ he blurted out. He sighed, hanging his head. “I know I couldn’t rush you, and I know you wanted to go at your own speed, but I wanted you _so badly.”_

“I did too,” Lance said, interrupting him. He scratched his head. “I just...I didn’t think you were the one.”

Octavius folded his arms. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“Octy,” Lance gave him a sad smile, shaking his head. “We’re too similar. I can’t go to bed every night with the both of us sipping the same tea and reading the same romantic poems by the moonlight. Where’s the fire in that?”

Octavius thought about the mornings he’d spent walking to work with Lancelot, both of them going to the coffee shop and ordering their favorite muffin, blueberry, and drinking _macchiatos,_ talking about the latest Shakespeare production at the Globe, of which they had the same opinions. Then his mind drifted to Jedediah. Different in almost every possible way, yet alluring. The few common interests they shared being the closest to his heart. The man somehow managing to make him laugh, even when he had a reputation of being serious. Of surprising him when he thought he knew all there was to know.

“You’re right,” he said, double-taking. “My God, you’re _right._ Lance, I’m so sorry. _”_

“There, now, I should be the one apologizing,” said Lance. “It was a miscommunication on my part.”

“And mine,” said Octavius. Naturally, they both agreed. Just then, there was a buzzing noise on Lance’s phone. He picked it up and smiled, then cautiously looked up.

“That’s Kahmunrah. He’s invited me to the movies this week.” He placed a hand on Octavius’s face. “Will you be alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Octavius said, laughing suddenly, though tears poured out of his eyes. “I have some catching up to do with Jedediah, myself.”

The two of them embraced for one last time, laughing and crying over what they never had.

***

“Hey, Tavi, I heard you and Lance broke up last night,” said Amelia the next day at work. She pouted her lip. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” She gave him a big hug.

“It’s alright,” said Octavius, gratefully accepting the gesture. “It was a small price to pay for having idealized him as the perfect partner just because he was willing to go out with me when I came out. Anyway, as he said, it was like we were dating ourselves, rather than another individual.”

“There he is, the bravest man in the world,” said Ahk, greeting him with a hug and kiss on each cheek.

“Thank you, Ahkmenrah,” Octavius said, reciprocating.

“Hey, hands off the groom,” Larry joked, moving in for a hug also.

“Ah, bully,” said Teddy, giving Octavius a friendly clap on the back. “I’ve always fancied a group get-together.” He wrapped an arm around Octavius and Larry, moving in.

“We’re here anytime you need us,” said Wea, following suit.

Attila said something in Mongolian and joined as well. 

Even _McPhee_ joined in on the action.

“Am I missing something, here?” Lancelot asked Kahmunrah in the background, scratching his chin. Kah just shrugged. Lance watched a while longer before turning to Kah, smiling. “Ah, well. May as well follow suit.”

“That we shall,” Kah agreed, and they hugged, giggling.

Al and Napoleon watched from even further back, both raising a collective eyebrow.

“Would you get a load of that love fest?” Al said.

Napoleon harrumphed, turning away. “I am not hugging you.”

“Who says I _would,_ Frenchy?” Al protested. They stood in steamed silence for a while before Al said “Nyeh, fuck it,” and moved in.

“You let go at once!” Napoleon protested, mouth covered by Al’s arms.

Al grunted. “Just shut up and feel the love, or I’ll shoot you.”

Soon, the whole studio was full of people hugging, like an early Valentine's Day of sorts. It was as if Octavius's grief had become a gaseous fume of sorts that, upon smelling, would suddenly invoke great empathy and a need to comfort one another.

The only person not participating, period, was Jedediah, but this was because he was busy planning something in the conference room.

***

It was coffee break. _Tea_ break, for Octavius.

He was pouring himself a warm cuppa after what had been another blustery London day when not far off, he could hear a small buzzing. He thought it was music, but he couldn’t be sure. He looked to the far corner of the room where he saw Jedediah…strumming a guitar? He walked closer, curious. 

Jed glided his fingers across the neck of the guitar and plucked some simple tunes, not looking up once. The guitar was classic in design, made of shiny, amber wood with brown sides and a rosette around the hole.  

Only when Octavius was less than a few feet away from him did he finally look up from under his Stetson hat.

“I realized I never played you a song at yer window, like I promised,” was his simple explanation. “This was the next best place.”

“In the…conference room?” Octavius said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, ya know, hardly anybody comes in here,” Jed pointed out, waving a hand across the room as if to point at all the nothingness.

Octavius nodded. “Point taken.”

Jedediah got up and placed the guitar on the floor, then looked through Octavius’s soul with his eyes. “Ever learn how to dance?”

Octavius scoffed. “I was a _Theater major.”_

“Yeah, but that’s just tap-dancin’,” said Jed. “I meant _really_ dance. The kind where you connect with only one other person and move your feet slowly, eyes never leaving each other’s. Like, say, waltzing?

“Once, at my wife and I’s wedding,” Octavius began, before catching himself. He folded his arms. “But I’m all out of practice.”

Jed laughed. “Well, then, allow me to reintroduce ya.” He walked to a nearby radio and pushed a button, which played the sounds of violin strings. It was a lovely pace for waltzing; that is, it would be, if Octavius knew how. “C’mon,” Jed said, laughing again. He took Octavius’s left arm and wrapped it around his shoulders before he wrapped his right arm around Octavius’s shoulders. Then he held up Octavius’s free hand in his own. “Our eyes meet,” he whispered almost to himself, before saying, “Step back with your left foot, right to the side, then left, two, three…”

Slowly but surely, they made their way around the room, waltzing steadily to the music. Octavius found it rather dizzying to have to look into Jedediah’s eyes as he moved, though. As if those eyes weren’t dizzying enough!

He was much more used to dancing alone all these years than with a partner. When you were by yourself, you could get lonely, but at least there was space to do as you chose. Twice, already, he’d stepped on Jedediah’s foot, and missed a step three times as much. It made him frustrated. How was he supposed to connect and experience the beauty of movement when he was making so many clumsy mistakes? His heart shrunk at the thought of Jedediah realizing just how out of practice he really was, seeking another person who would be more in tune with his movements instead of worrying over every little step. So when Jedediah began to move faster, it was only natural that he began to panic.

“Jedediah, I don’t think I can do this.”

“Relax, laredo, you’re doing great,” Jed whispered in his ear.

“No, really, let go of me. Stop it!” He pulled away, effectively loosening himself from the other’s grip. Jed looked at him, surprised for a moment, before it quickly melted into a frown.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” He turned off the radio, putting his hands on his hips. “What is your problem? Ever since I first got here, you’ve been nothing but a jackass to me! Actually, I take it back – that one time you showed me decency. _One time!_ I can’t believe I was actually startin’ to _like_ you!” Octavius could not believe what he was hearing, even as Jed’s finger jabbed at his chest. There was no way any of it was true. It couldn’t be.

So he narrowed his eyes and retaliated with, “You have no right to say such things, as you hardly even know me!”

“Well, I’m not surprised! How can _anyone_ get to know you when ya keep actin’ like there’s a ram rod stuck up yer ass?!” Jed fired back. "Anyway, you're wrong. I know _plenty_  about you."

Octavius scoffed. "Oh, yeah? Like what?" 

"Aw, fer cryin' - you're gonna make me _list it out,_ aren't ya?!" Jedediah cried, pulling at his hair. "You lived in Italy before moving to England at a young age. You were a Theater major in college, with a minor in Communications. You were a social worker for a while. You had a wife for seven years before you divorced. You lived alone in an apartment afterwards before growing restless and traveling the world. You went from blogging your travels around Rome and Italy to producing podcasts at a minimum wage to getting a job at a well-paying radio station in England. You have a radio segment not quite as known overseas, but plenty well-known by me. You hate coffee but love the smell. You're secretly romantic at heart and like to buy flowers. There's nothing you love more than Italian cooking. Or writing. Or talking with friends. You love Shakespeare. You're a bibliophile with a refined taste. You're a fucking mess when you're drunk. You're an 80s music junkie, but also love indie and classical. You have a cat. Your favorite color is red. You've only been to America once."

He panted, running out of breath. "So don't you _ever_ say I don't know you, because I've only been here for a few months and I can already recall your whole life story!"

"You forgot about the part where I can't dance!" Octavius sneered.

At that moment, time seemed to freeze. He could see the flames in his eyes, each blue spark flickering with unidentified emotion. Then, suddenly, a vivid forest fire as Jedediah drew Octavius roughly to him and smashed their lips together. Their foreheads collided, making Oct see stars, only not the good kind. Jed must have felt the same way, as he groaned in pain and drew back.

Octavius seemed paralyzed for a moment, fingers touching where Jedediah’s lips had just been. Then, drawing a breath, he reached back and slapped him across the face with all his might.

What frightened him most was how Jedediah did not say a word nor reach up to ghost his fingers across the patch of red. Instead he stood there, unmoving, before turning around and walking away.

As though nothing had happened at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH SNAP! 8D
> 
> Things are gettin' gooood ~


	13. Chapter 13

For the longest time, Octavius stood there, trying to unbelieve everything that had occurred within the past ten minutes. If anyone had looked at him in that moment, they might have said he looked like a statue. Then they would have backed away in surprise when he huffed and folded his arms just seconds later.

 _How dare he,_ he thought, lifting his chin into the air. How dare Jedediah insult him and grab him with that wild look in his eyes. He’d never felt more undignified in his life!

And yet, there was something about the way he was backed up against the wall, their teeth gnashing together; the way Jedediah had threaded his fingers through his hair and pulled at his jacket with such brutal force that made him feel so wanted. So needed. So -

So so so _so_ turned on right now.

 _You’ve got to be joking,_ he groaned. But it was true; his whole body had grown hot. Sweating, he left the room, eyes darting this way and that in search of Jedediah. When they did not find him, they narrowed in frustration.

“No! Now I’ll never find him!” he yelled melodramatically, bending over and panting. No one understood. He was tired of chasing after what he wanted and either never quite catching it or only doing so for a short while before it escaped forever. Just this once, he wanted to be in someone else’s butterfly net. 

A soft, reassuring hand touched his back. “What’s the matter, Tavi?”

“Have you seen Jedediah?” he breathed, turning to Amelia. She nodded.

“Last time I saw him, he was leaving the studio.” She tilted her head. “He seemed rather upset.”

“Oh God…” Octavius groaned, hiding his face in his hands, “You don’t understand - I’ve done a very bad thing. I have to find him immediately to tell him how I really feel.”

“You do?” Her blue eyes widened, almost hopeful.

“Yes. He said all these wonderful things about me, and here all I could do was act like a prick to him. Not that I’d ever admit that in all my _life -”_ Amelia gave him a stern look. “What? It’s not like it was just me. He was being one too!” Her look only intensified. He sighed. “Fine. I suppose I have to _apologize,_ too.”

Amelia smiled, patting his back. “Now you’re getting it.”

“Yes, now go chase after your man!” Ahkmenrah cried, getting both their attention.

Octavius raised an eyebrow. “Ahk? You’ve been listening the whole time?”

Ahk shrugged. “I can’t help that I’m romantic at heart.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Larry piped up beside him, holding his hand. They chuckled and shared a kiss.

*** 

Octavius searched night and day, but he could not find Jedediah at all. He hadn’t shown up for work the next morning. All day, his thoughts were distracted by the terrible possibilities of what could have happened to Jedediah:

He could have left London. He could have boarded a plane back to America and decided to never come back. _He could have left the face of this planet._

McPhee, unimpressed by his inability to focus on his work, had sent him home early. Something he’d never ever done before. But there was no time for Octavius’s anxiety over possibly losing his job to grow - he had a man to find.

He prowled the streets of London, tracing and retracing his steps, trying to find the most logical pattern Jed would follow.

He couldn’t have gone far. Would he take the train? No, he seemed more like the type to walk. Perhaps the art museum? Hmm, no. He might have gone to the pub, but it wouldn’t have any of his favorite beer. ...Oh, this would all be so much simpler if he knew where he lived!

His eyes widened at that. _He did!_

Back when he’d sent that gift to Guest116, they had their living address listed on their profile, like his own chat account. Plus, Jedediah had mentioned several months back that he lived near a sandwich place. And there were not many of those in town!

Next thing he knew, he was running, huffing and puffing down the streets of London, before he came upon a quaint little neighborhood of small brick apartments with gardens out front and trees in the middle of the sidewalk.

How overjoyed he would be to see Jedediah safe in his home. At the same time, though, he was so mad, he couldn’t even believe it.

Without thinking, he ran around back, flung open the window, and began crawling through it. Jedediah’s blue eyes widened as he whipped his head in his direction.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“I’m going to kill you!” he huffed.

“Not if I kill you first!” Jedediah exclaimed. “I can’t believe you just broke into my home.” He laughed, though his hands carded through his hair in exasperation. “You’re crazier than a road lizard! I could have you arrested for this!”

“Well, I’m not technically in, yet,” he huffed, squeezing the rest of himself through before landing on the kitchen floor with a thud. He stood up, arms braced. “There you are. Now I’ve got you.”

“How do you know I even _want_ you in here?” said Jedediah. “How do you know I’m not shaking in my boots right now, about to call the police?”

Octavius grinned. “You would have shut the window on me.” He closed it, then walked closer, until they were both standing face to face.

Jedediah growled. “What do you want from me, anyway?”

“An explanation would be nice,” said Octavius. “Say, _why_ you suddenly shoved me against the wall and kissed me?”

“Aw, c’mon! I’ve told ya again and again! Do I really have to explain it to ya, ya gol-darn -”

Octavius laughed. “No, of course not! I just like seeing you stumble.”

“God, you’re mean,” Jedediah huffed, hair in his eyes. “Just a big ol’ bastard.” He reached out and flicked Octavius in the forehead.

“Ow!” he cried, hand going up immediately.

“That was for yesterday.”

“Son of Jupiter, that hurt!”

“Aw, no it didn’t, don’t be such a baby,” Jedediah laughed.

Octavius folded his arms. “Well, with that logic, I suppose my slap didn’t hurt you much either.”

“No way, that was much harder!” Jedediah whined, puffing out his lip. “It still stings a little.” He continued to whimper and Octavius folded his arms at the pathetic sound. He sighed.

“For God’s sake.” He leaned across and planted a small peck on his cheek. And in that moment, realizing the sweet taste against his lips, all his inhibitions and feelings of hatred melted away, revealing only the layer that wanted to love. He kissed him again, and again. Slowly, he trailed from his cheek to his jaw, just behind his ear and down his neck. His body had grown hot again, and so, he noted with satisfaction, had Jedediah’s. He could feel the other’s breath hitch, heartbeat growing tenfold along with his own.

Pressed against him, shirt fabric clenched beneath his fingers, he pulled away, eyes closed and breathing heavily. “Tell me when to stop.”

But Jedediah didn’t.

***

Octavius read somewhere once that love could blur the line between man and animal. Well, Jedediah certainly brought out the animal in him. He could not recall any of what happened that night, and for a while, he thought he must have been drunk.

Only when he saw blond tufts of hair fanned out upon the pillow beside him did he remember –

Their little scene by the kitchen sink had escalated quite a bit. Despite the awkward fumbling of belts - “Too many layers...dammit-!” - and whispered apologies, Octavius found the whole thing to be quite hot. He could have had him right then and there, but Jedediah was more of a traditionalist and insisted that they move it to the bedroom. Oct was less argumentative and more surprised that Jed was able to form a coherent sentence in his state, so they went upstairs.

He remembered crying after, but only because he was so happy, and not, as a half-naked Jedediah had feared, because he regretted it. He had to go to the bathroom to calm himself down before walking back and collapsing in a tired and sweaty heap. For once, something in his life had gone completely right, and he slept like a baby until morning.

Yawning, he got out of bed, straightened his t-shirt and boxer shorts, grabbed his reading glasses, and made his way downstairs. He rummaged through the floor cupboards for a pan and turned on the stove, searching through the refrigerator for ingredients. The pan sizzled with promising smells.

Soon, he heard footsteps. He turned around and saw a bed-headed Jedediah clad in a blue bathrobe, yawning and staring at him.

“What are you doin’?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Making breakfast. I figured it’s the least I could do.”

“Fer what?” His face seemed amused.

“Oh, you know – barging into your house out of nowhere. I do apologize for that, by the way.”

Jedediah chuckled. “Well, gee, if that’s how it’s gonna be every time,” he said, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist and brushing his lips against his ear, “You can ‘barge in’ whenever you _please_.”

Oct chuckled nervously, his face growing hot. He definitely knew who would be boss next time.

“Today’s menu smells delicious,” Jed continued, lifting his nose to the air.

Octavius laughed, shaking his head. “It’s only scrambled eggs and bacon.”

“Yeah, but you got somethin’ else in there. I can smell it.”

Octavius’s heart swelled. “I added some spinach and goats’ cheese. Never thought you’d recognize.” He beamed. “If I were in Italy, they might look at me as if I were two-headed for making frittatas during the day instead of for dinner.”

“Well, ain’t _that_ naughty,” said Jedediah, smiling.

Octavius’s eyes crinkled. “I can’t help that you make me do naughty things.”

The both of them laughed and Octavius leaned back against Jedediah, frying the eggs and bacon in bliss.

***

Regretfully, they could not spend the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company, for they both had work. But that did not mean they couldn’t get ready together, they had realized with great enthusiasm.

“I can’t go in the same outfit I had on yesterday,” said Octavius, folding his shirt and pants. “It would look unprofessional.”

“Yeah, alright, I’ll try to find somethin’ for ya,” said Jed, folding his own clothes. He lifted an arm and sniffed. “Shit, do I smell weird?”

“You smell sexy, my love,” Octavius replied, unable to help himself.

Jedediah laughed. “Alright, then, ya little brown-noser, let’s see you try this on.” He threw a shirt at Octavius and it covered his face.

“Hey!” he cried, though he was laughing. He slipped it on - a grey button-down with the sleeves rolled up. His hair was still a bit messy from last night.

He looked up to see Jedediah scratching his ear, almost shy. “You know...you look kinda cute in my shirt.” Octavius looked down. Jed’s eyes widened at that. “Oh, what’s the matter? You don’t like that, huh? What about ‘pretty’, or ‘beautiful’?”

Octavius nodded. “Beautiful is nice, but I much prefer ‘handsome’.”

“Handsome…” Jed trailed off. Then, smirking, “Who’s the traditionalist now?”

Octavius burst into laughter. “Jedediah Smith, you never fail to agitate me!”

“By that you mean ‘properly annoy’, right?” They laughed for a bit. Jed ruffled his hair playfully. “Get dressed, you son of a bitch.” He leaned in and kissed Octavius even though he was now laughing harder than before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think post-coital Jedtavius has grown on me. :3
> 
> Happy 2018!


	14. Chapter 14

The two of them arrived at the studio, looking rather casual. If by casual, one meant having their arms wrapped around each other looking at one another with big googly eyes, that is. Not to mention, Octavius was clearly wearing Jedediah’s shirt and cowboy jeans. Everyone watched with utter confusion and yet brow-raising amusement as they laughed and smiled, like old friends, when they were supposed to be ragging on each other. Some even had to blink, just to see if it was real. 

Amelia and Ahkmenrah were the first to approach him once they went to their respective offices.  

”So, how did it go?” said Amelia.

Octavius scratched his head. “It was fine, really. I apologized, and so did he. It was all good.”  

“I have a feeling you got _more_ than just an apology,” said Amelia, and Ahk shoved a hand in his mouth to keep from laughing.

“Rude,” Octavius dismissed, rolling his eyes, though he was chuckling.

“A-ha! I knew it!” Amelia pointed a lively finger at him. “So if I walked up to Jed and told him to kiss you right now, he would!”

Octavius looked away, face burning. “In theory, yes, I suppose…”

“Do you hear this, Ahkmenrah?” said Amelia, turning to the other.

“Oh, yes! I’m so very excited for you two.” Ahk grinned, clapping his hands together.

They asked him exactly what happened. They wanted him to recall every exact moment in detail, even down to what he was thinking. As much as Octavius wanted to shout it from the rooftops, he was starting to get a little annoyed. They wouldn’t stop _hanging_ off of him. So when he saw the nearest people within distance, he looked up, pointed his finger at them, and cried, “Hey, look, Lance and Kah!”

It worked like a charm - Amelia and Ahk went from bombarding him with questions and squeals to swarming those two, asking them about their movie date and telling them they should kiss. A familiar face peeked from above them.

“Gee, thanks,” said Lance, though his eyes were smiling.

Octavius laughed. “You’re welcome.”

***

“Good morning, England! On this special episode of _Radio Rome,_ I have teamed up with my fellow co-worker, Jedediah, from _Cowboys on Air._ Also known as my boyfriend.”

“Morning, Ockie!” Jedediah threw his arms around him and gave him a big kiss.

"Luv, please, you'll get your germs all over me," Octavius gave him a gentle push, though he was smiling.

"Too late!" he sang cheerfully.

Octavius blushed and shook his head, chuckling. "Anyhow. Once again, we're walking along the windy streets of London, looking to discover the truth about love. You, there," he said, stopping a random passer-by. "Do you know what the meaning of true love is?"

The man frowned in thought. "What, you want a fairy-tale definition, or...?"

"Anything, anything," Octavius prompted.

"Hmm, okay." The man rubbed his chin. "Well, the way I see it, it's the only emotion you can feel towards someone that isn't bound by the laws of human behavior. I could punch some guy and he'd get angry. I could get promoted above a hard-working woman at my job and she'd get jealous. These are just the traits we have. But when you truly love someone, your behavior and instincts change toward that person _only,_ until all you want to do is become a better version of yourself."

“I agree,” a woman piped up, walking up to them. “I would even go on to add that you can experience true love _many_ times. There’s not just one Prince Charming, you know - sometimes there are several, and all of them are equally valuable, because they bring love to your life.”

“But when you do find one person,” said a small girl, “that is there for you all the time, then even when you fight, your heart can’t help but smile through your frown.”

All the adults ‘aww’ed at that, and Octavius and Jedediah glanced at each other knowingly. 

They had a lovely chat with all the pedestrians that had crowded around them, though there were some comical moments were someone recognized either of them from their famous segments and asked for autographs. They would also have to pause the show to pose for “couple pictures” that people insisted on taking. They’d be on the front cover of every newspaper soon enough, they knew.

Finally, everyone left and they walked back towards the studio, Octavius wrapping up his show.

“So, you see, all my listeners, there is no one set definition of true love. And yet, everyone who talked to us was right. You have to wonder if love is engrained in all of us, the way we know it so well. Or is it learned over time?” He tilted his head at Jedediah, who grinned from beneath his hat. “Fact of the day: Did you know that the Romans frowned upon PDA, to the point where a senator lost his job for embracing his wife?”

“Then I’d sure hate to see their faces if they bumped into _us,”_ Jedediah pointed out.

Oct laughed, then said, “I’m Octavius Caesar - ”

“I’m Jedediah Smith - ”

“And this has been _Radio Rome!”_ they both said at the same time.

They walked through the studio doors and were greeted by their friends right away.

“Oct, Jed, you’ve done it again!” said Don.

“Yeah, way to go, guys,” Larry agreed.

Amelia smiled. “Bravo, both of you!” Her eyes shone knowingly.

The crowd was arguably bigger than yesterday; so large, the doors were flooded. Even Al and Napoleon had stopped to give them their congratulations. Apparently, there was just something about love that attracted everyone’s attention and sent the ratings through the _roof._

“Ockie. I’m so proud of you,” said Jed, hugging him. Octavius smiled.

“No,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around him, “I’m proud of _you.”_ That’s when Octavius _knew_ he made the right choice. That Jedediah was the one for him.

***

“Didja see the look on McPhee’s face?” said Jedediah, later that afternoon. “I ain’t never seen that man jump any faster out of his skin than the whole time I’ve been here!”

Octavius giggled. “I don’t think that man _ever_ expected to see us kiss.”

“Punch the living daylights out of, yeah, but _not_ kiss,” Jedediah agreed, and God, how nice it was for them to agree for once. Octavius could have sworn that he was kneeling on a cloud, instead of the dirt of Jedediah’s small garden as they planted bulbs together.  

Octavius saw one of Jedediah’s hands was free, next to the one placing the bulb in the ground. He reached out and held it, rubbing his thumb across the back. Jedediah looked at him, lips parted, and he mirrored his expression.

”I love you." The words left his mouth as he thought them. Then, grinning – “And your dirt-covered face, too.”

“Huh? My face ain’t covered in dirt - _hey!”_

Octavius threw a handful of dirt at Jedediah’s beard line, hitting him in the cheek, cracking up. Jed laughed and retaliated, and they both rolled around in the yard.

Octavius, the very definition of a neat-freak, would have never voluntarily gotten his hair and clothes all dirty before he met Jedediah. But then, that was what love did, he remembered that man saying earlier. It brought out the unexpected in people. 

They paused, laughing and out of breath. The sun was shining that day, and Octavius could see it in Jedediah’s hair, almost as though it were a leaf. Jed beamed down at him, running his caring fingers through his hair. “I love you too.”

Octavius grinned at the words, so natural and honest coming from his mouth. He wondered if Jed felt that same way when he said it. Not like it was an overused phrase forced out of nowhere, but, rather, a simple thought he’d come to realize from all their months of getting to know each other and spending a deeply emotional night in each other’s company.

But he had no time to get philosophical, for Jedediah had once again started rolling in the dirt with him. He laughed, stuffing his shirt full of dirt before allowing Jed to do the same to him. They'd each need a shower later, they knew, but still they continued. 

After all, why stop now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for a very sad ending. ;_;


	15. Chapter 15

Much had happened in the next few months since Jed and Octavius had gotten together. One could not possibly keep track on one’s own, so Octavius had Jedediah help him remember:

Amelia, still as free-spirited as ever, enrolled in flight school and was smoking everybody, of course. Pretty soon, she would be promoted to Captain. Octavius expected to see her in the air at the Fourth of July, when the jets would no doubt put on a show.

Ahkmenrah and Larry held their bachelor party at the British Museum, like the nerds they were (and yet, it was oddly fun), and would be married in the fall. Larry had gotten a part-time job as a history teacher at Oxford, and Ahkmenrah at the Egyptology Department in Cambridge. They were quite the power-couple, indeed.

Teddy and Wea were also a power couple, with Teddy taking over most of the political talk shows in England and Wea working in the science lab, making great discoveries that would no doubt benefit mankind. Oh, yes, and she was also the Studio Manager - McPhee had retired.

Lance and Kah were, of course, dating. Lance got a movie deal and Kah was officially in charge of the Fashion Department. Every other week, they would see shows at the Globe together, and once, they vacationed in Paris. Their first kiss was during the proposal scene in _The Tempest._

Al and Napoleon, down in the Sports Department, were still having their slapstick tiffs, as usual. They would not say they were friends, but Octavius thought he could detect them smiling at each other every now and then as they fought.

Don started living with the blonde lady he’d gone out with to the movie theater - Octavius believed her name was ‘Erica’ - and her son, Nicky. There was no doubt they would be Mister and Missus soon.

Attila, long overlooked under McPhee’s supervision, had recently gotten a promotion from Wea to be the studio’s assistant manager. He even had his own magic shop in downtown London that he was trying to start. So far, it seemed like a rather steady business.

Jedediah had also started a small business out of his and Octavius’s shared apartment (they’d both moved out), selling paintings he made of the American West along with some small treats he baked. He was still as popular as ever in and outside of the US.

Oh, yes, and Octavius was writing an updated autobiography, documenting his radio segments along with a B-story, which was his love life and those of others, with their express permission. He called it, _Love In The Radio Industry: A Personalized Account._

 ***

After another successful show, Octavius hung up his headphones and turned off the lights in his studio. He picked up his briefcase and was about to pick up Jedediah at his office when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and saw...well, well, well, Jedediah.

He smiled at his lover. “Were you standing there the whole time?”

Jed scratched his head. “Ockie, there’s something I need to tell you, but I’m not sure how to say it.” Octavius raised a concerned eyebrow.

“Well, go on then,” he prompted him.

“After being with ya all these months, I decided…” He looked up, eyes startlingly blue. “I have to end this thing we have.”

“What?”

“I wanted to tell ya earlier, but I didn’t have the time. I won’t deny it was fun…”

“Oh my God, no.”

“But I just can’t be with you like this anymore…”

“Jedediah, _no!”_

“So will you marry me?”

“...Huh?”

Next thing Oct knew, Jed was kneeling on one knee, holding up a velvet box with the cheekiest grin on his face. Friends came pouring in from all around the hallway, grins just as cheeky, but they could never hold a candle to the man before him. Overwhelmed, tears flooded his eyes.

“Yes...you absolute _prat!”_ Jedediah stood up and he threw himself into his arms, kissing him with all his might and drowning out the sounds of cheers.

Octavius could hardly believe his luck. In the span of several years, he’d gone from dismissing love in the wake of a cynical divorce to falling for it all over again upon entering his first real relationship to possibly (definitely) spending the rest of his life with a man who drove him insane in all the right ways. All his life he’d been afraid to settle down, wondering when or if he would in dreaded anticipation and, well -

Who knew that time would be now?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fooled you!! ;D Or did I? Let me know.
> 
> This is the end, folks!


End file.
